Dreams in Liquid Blue
by Child of Magick
Summary: A broken musician finds a reason to live again. Legolas finally tells his story. Contains suicide and slash
1. Shards of Me

Oh, my. I have written about someone falling into Middle-Earth. *shudders at the thought*. But it is for a very, very good reason. So I'll grin and bear it.  
  
This fic is being written for a very close friend, so it probably won't get updated as much as I would like. I was begged to write it as a graduation/birthday present, so I'm kinda taking my time with it. Hope it comes out okay.  
  
This story is dedicated to Daemon. Remember this: No matter what happens, your music will live on through me. You were willing to take the girl who got frustrated to easily and was very disrespectful and turned her into something great, and I will always thank you for that. Your music will live on through me. And thank you for not leaving me behind.  
  
Warnings: There will be slash. It also deals with suicide and other nasty thoughts.  
  
The title of this story comes from 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath  
  
Disclaimer: The characters you recognize are not mine. They belong to Tolkien. And I would like to remind Daemon that Legolas was mine first, and I am being gracious here. It also ties in a bit with Mercedes lackey. The whole Bard and Creation Magick idea belongs to her.  
  
Dreams of Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 1: Shards of Me  
  
Shards of me too sharp to put back together, too small to matter.  
  
-----'Breathe No More' Evanescence  
  
----------------------------------------------------  
  
His life was over. All his dreams were shattered. All his goals that had once lain so tantalizingly close had been stripped away in one moment.  
  
There was nothing left to live for.  
  
Seventeen-year-old Daemon Kincaid stared down at his bandaged hands, once the instruments of perfection, now ruined for life. He had once been able to create the most beautiful melodies with those hands, his gift from God. But no more. The music had been silenced.  
  
Daemon had picked up the guitar at an early age, which thrilled his mother, a former musician herself. By the time he was ten, he had been declared a prodigy, his fingers moving over the frets almost faster than the eye could follow. He could listen to anything and be playing it to perfection merely hours later. He would rent videos of Jimi Hendrix and Jimmy Paige and other guitar gods, soaking them up, watching how they played and learning. By the time he was thirteen, he had a band and was playing gigs at fairs and other community gatherings.  
  
His parents had coaxed him away from his beloved Gibson long enough to learn the piano. He picked it up easily enough, but nowhere near as quick as the guitar. He became talented on that instrument as well, and took delight in writing pieces of music for piano and guitar duets. But he was happiest when he was sitting with that old, worn out acoustic and picking any tune that came to mind.  
  
Other instruments followed: violin, trumpet, drums, even flute. His parents wanted him to go to Juliard, but he refused to leave his band behind. And, no matter how good he was at other instruments, he always went back to that Gibson.  
  
The same Gibson that was now shattered in a million pieces.  
  
It had been a simple accident. There was nothing anyone could have done. He had been cutting off a piece of wood to help build his mother's curio cabinet when the handle of the saw---which was older than he was and held in place by pound of duct tape---broke. The saw, still going. fell on his hand, severing four of his fingers.  
  
He had been rushed to the hospital, nearly hysterical with pain. The doctor had done what he could, but had informed them that there was no way to reattach Daemon's lost fingers. He had been lucky the saw didn't do more damage, and they had managed to get him to the hospital before he lost too much blood. But Daemon didn't care about that.  
  
His days as a musician were over.  
  
Things were never the same after that. The boy had retreated into a deep depression that not even eighteen-year-old Morrigan Blackwood, his best friend, could pull him out of.  
  
At first, it was just silence and blank stares. He wouldn't respond to those around him and, one by one, his friends and former bandmates left him. Only Morrigan stayed by his side.  
  
Then had come the anger. It had happened all at once. He had been sitting in his room, starring at the various guitars that sat happily in their stands, seeming to mock him. Something in him had snapped. With a loud cry, he picked up the offending Gibson---the first guitar he'd ever bought and refused to part with---and smashed it over and over onto the floor. It soon lay in pieces and he stood in the middle of it, broken neck still dangling from his hand, cursing it. He had wanted to cry then. He could even feel the tears well up behind his eyes. But something in him refused to let them out.  
  
This had frightened his parents. They immediately sent him to see a shrink. The first report they had gotten back was that Daemon was a very violent young man with need of serious medical help. But he would continue to treat him as best as he could.  
  
The only time Daemon ever seemed tame was when he was with Morrigan. She would sit with him and spread out blank sheet music between them. He could write music. When he felt the time was write, he could pick up the pieces of his shattered dream and put it back together. He had taken the gift, but had yet to use it.  
  
Now his thoughts had turned dark. His hand served a mockery to remind him of all that once was, of all that could have been. So much had been lost.   
  
The first attempt was with a knife at his wrists. He had left two notes, one for his parents and one for Morrigan, before going to the small studio his parents had built for him and the band. There, surrounded by the things he had used to love, he tried to take his own life.  
  
It would've worked, except Morrigan had decided to come by to drop off some new equipment she had gotten. He was in the hospital within a matter of minutes, placed under strict suicide watch and Morrigan's tearful eyes.  
  
"Please don't leave me," she had whispered. "Don't leave me behind. Just hold on a little longer."  
  
He hadn't been able to look her in the eye.  
  
His parents, fearing what the reactions of his fellow students would have on Daemon's fragile psyche, had taken him out of public school and hired a tutor. He did his work, but only because it would keep his parents and teacher from nagging him.  
  
Again, it seemed as though his red-haired friend was the only one who could get through to him. They would sit for hours in silence as they worked on their school work, but it was a companionable silence. She started going with him to therapy sessions, and his parents began to have new hope.  
  
Until he tried again.  
  
He had been walking through a busy part of town, head bowed. But he still hadn't been able to ignore the looks people were giving him, the whispers, the pointing fingers. So he had flung himself out into the rush of noon traffic.  
  
The car managed to swerve a bit, so the impact wasn't too bad. It only clipped him, giving him a broken shoulder and bruised rib. He was again sent back to the hospital and placed under suicide watch.  
  
His parents had watched in helpless anger. Their little boy was gone. They did everything they could for him, but he wouldn't come back.  
  
By then, Morrigan was almost a permanent fixture. She would come in and read 'The Lord of the Rings' to him. His tutor had mentioned something about British Literature, and the girl had jumped at the chance to share her passion with her friend.  
  
Daemon seemed to come alive when she did this. He could find so many parallels with his own story that he couldn't help but listen intently as her husky voice told of the exploits of Frodo and the Fellowship.  
  
He couldn't seem to get enough. When she saw his thirst, Morrigan began bringing copies of the movies along with her as well. They would stay up late into the night, watching them. Morrigan often teased him that the only reason he wanted to watch them was because he could oogle Legolas, which caused a blush to rise to his cheeks. He had never made it a secret that he was attracted to guys instead of girls, and Morrigan had taken it completely in stride.  
  
"Just be careful, though," she had warned him jokingly. "I might get jealous. After all, I did see him first."  
  
He began to feel his life start to reform, to have meaning again. He decided then and there that he wanted to be a writer, to create these beautiful worlds. For he felt that, when watching the movies or reading the books, he escaped his own tortured life. He was someone again.  
  
But his happiness was not to last.  
  
Even the most devoted spouses can find things to drive them apart. No one was perfect, and no two people always got along. For his parents, their suicidal son had been that breaking point. His father wanted him to be put in an institution, or at least get some kind of help. His mother said that he was getting the best help he needed just then.  
  
"You call a girl with half a brain 'the best help'?" his father would shout. "She just reminds him of everything! He'd only going to get worse if he stays around her."  
  
"Morrigan is his best friend," his mother would reply, her voice soft and eyes sad. "She knows what he needs better than you or I. If she can't pull him through, then no one else can."  
  
Mr. Kincaid would growl then go off to drown his sorrows in a bottle of Scotch, as he had been prone to do lately.  
  
The fights only got worse. Daemon had witnessed the first the time his father had struck his mother and had retreated into his room. He didn't know what to do. It was all his fault.  
  
Which was why he was now in his mother's Lexus, speeding down the highway going over ninety miles an hour. He knew that this was it. There wouldn't be anyone to take him to the hospital this time. Very few people would be out at four in the morning. Besides, he planned on their not being much left for them to find. The gas tank was full, and he wasn't wearing a seatbelt. He could only imagine what would happen to him when the car slammed into a concrete wall.  
  
Tears blurred Daemon's vision, but he still would not let them fall. He never paid attention to where he was going, as long as it ended in a cliff or wall.  
  
Which is why he never noticed the strange road that suddenly appeared before him. Or why it seemed as though everything was flying past him in a blur.  
  
At least, not until the voice spoke.  
  
"Daemon Kincaid?"  
  
He yelped and jumped, turning to his passenger seat. His hands came off the steering wheel, but the car stayed going strait.  
  
His first surprise came at the fact that, somehow, someone was in the car with him. His second came when he saw just exactly *who* his passenger was.  
  
The person in question had long blond hair and eyes of sparkling blue. They were dressed in a green tunic, with a bow and quiver full of arrows slung over his shoulder. And his ears were definitely pointed.  
  
Daemon was quite sure he had gone insane. "Legolas?" he whispered increadously.  
  
The Elf tilted his head to one side. "You have heard of me?"  
  
Daemon could only nod. "But---you're not real," he managed to whisper. He wondered if this was just some twisted fantasy his brain had invented now that he realized Daemon was about to die.  
  
Legolas---if that's indeed who it was---gave him a smile. "Ah. So you have read our tale. I promise you that it is all true. There was an Elf who has lived since that time. He came to these shores years ago and became great friends with a teacher. He told him his story one night, and so the tale was told as fiction in this world."  
  
He shook his head, hair brushing the stunned teen. "But that is not why I have come to you now." He leaned forward, so that his own blue eyes were locked with that of Daemon's. "You wish to die, Daemon Kincaid. Do you not?"  
  
Still unable to speak, he nodded.  
  
Legolas paused before continuing. "I have a choice for you, and it is yours alone." He nodded to the road that stretched out before them through the windshield. "You can continue on as you were, ending in death. Or you could come with me."  
  
Daemon simply blinked at him. "With you? But...why? I'm no good to anyone anymore."  
  
"That's not true," Legolas answered firmly. "We all have a purpose in life. And yours is to aide the peoples of Middle-Earth. That is, if prophecy is to be believed."  
  
"How?" His voice miserable, he looked down at his hand.  
  
Legolas's voice continued, soft and soothing. "You were a Bard in this world, a great musician. True, you can no longer play your songs, but that doesn't mean your magick has abated one bit."  
  
This caused Daemon a moment's pause. "Magick? What do you mean?"  
  
A smile ghosted across the Elf's lips. "Bards are some of the most powerful mages on Middle-Earth. They can create things---beautiful things---from their songs. Even when the songs can no longer be heard, the magick remains. Even the Istari can not do such things."  
  
"And what you need me for? You're right. I can't play any more."  
  
A steely look came into Legolas's eyes. " A new Evil has arisen. He is an imposing figure, living in the black tower of Dol Guldur. He calls himself Chaos, and he is killing everything in Middle-Earth. He wants the world to be in his vision, and is turning everything he touches into dark, barren wastelands. He wants Humans and Elves as slaves for his Death Guards, terrible creatures by their own right."  
  
Daemon simply stared at him. He was completely entranced by the story. The passion with which the Elf spoke. ~Those blue eyes.~ "What can I do against such a force?"  
  
Legolas looked him strait in the eyes. "Become his greatest fear. What better way to fight Death with Life? You can recreate what he has killed. You can bring dead things back to life. You are Middle-Earth's last hope, for there are no other Bards to equal your power."  
  
Daemon fell silent, his brain working overtime. Here he was in a car that seemed to be moving on its own, listening to an Elf he thought hadn't existed telling him that he was the last hope for a dying world.  
  
But what if he was just dreaming? What if he somehow woke up and found himself thrown back into his pain-filled life where he no longer had a purpose? Could he risk that?  
  
"What is your choice, Daemon Kincaid?" came that soft voice, breaking into his thoughts. "Do you wish to end your life now, travel to the lands of your God? Or do you wish to have a reason to live again?"  
  
~A reason to live again...~ Those words tugged on his heart. He knew somehow that this was true, that he wasn't going to be taken back to that awful place he called home. "Besides," Morrigan always told him, "what fun is life if you don't take risks?"  
  
Daemon turned to the Elf and nodded. "I want to come with you."  
  
Smiling, Legolas reached out and took Daemon's hand---the boy shivered at the contact---and both disappeared in a blinding light.  
  
--------------------------------------  
  
It wasn't an hour later that the police found the car, wrapped around a tree. No body could be found, but there was no way any one could have survived a crash like that.  
  
Morrigan and Daemon's mother held each other as they wept, reaching out with love and comfort as well as arms. His father stood a little ways away, looking shocked.  
  
Morrigan's heart ached with a fierce emptiness, but she couldn't help but offer a smile as she turned a tear-stained face to the sky. ~I hope you're in a better place, my friend. And I hope that you sing forever.~  
  
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Please review. I would like to know if it's too idiotic or not before I give this to him. I hope to have another chapter up soon. 


	2. Don't Look Back

Thanks for the reviews! It seems like it's going to be okay!  
  
Daemon Woman: *bows* Thank you so much for that wonderful review. I'm very glad that I've managed to command your attention for now. And I sincerely apologize for the lack of good plot and cheesy names. As I mentioned, I kinda came up with it on the spot after I got nagged at for two hours last night to start writing. I promise to try and make it better. Thanks for giving me a shot!  
  
Warnings: Slash, mentions of suicide, and other nasty thoughts.  
  
Disclaimer: As always, the characters that you all know and love belong to Tolkien, as much as I would like to own a few of them (Legolas, Glorfindel, Haldir...) Again, the title is taken from 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath.  
  
----------------------------------  
  
Dreams of Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 2: Don't Look Back  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Forget this life, come with me. Don't look back, you're safe now.  
  
------------- 'Anywhere' Evanescence  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
Daemon gasped and would have fallen if it hadn't been for a strong arm helping him stand. "Wow," he managed to breathe. "What a rush!"  
  
He had never experienced anything quite like the trip he and Legolas had just taken. It had felt like he was flying through the air, yet standing still at the same time. He had seen every conceivable color swirl by as they traveled. Purple melted into red, which in turn swirled away into green. It was fascinating, if not disquieting.  
  
Now that they had stopped, he felt shaky and sick. He desperately hoped he didn't throw up. He had no desire to embarrass himself further.  
  
Once he was sure he could stand, and that the contents of his stomach were going to stay put, he stepped away from the Elf with a smile and looked about him. His seemed to get quaky just being around the fair being. "So...this is Middle-Earth?"  
  
Legolas nodded. "Aye, it is. Actually, this is the outskirts of the Golden Wood."  
  
Daemon frowned at him. "The Golden Wood? You mean...Lothlorien?"  
  
A smile crept across Legolas's face at the surprised tone in the boy's voice. "Yes, Lothlorien. It was the Lady Galadriel who sent me to find you, and it is to her that I now take you. This is a great privilege, Daemon Kincaid. Few mortals have ever been allowed into the Golden Wood."  
  
If it had been possible, Daemon's jaw would've dropped further. He remembered Lothlorien, both from the reverent way Morrigan had read about the Wood, and the tranquil beauty that had captivated him in the movie. The gauzy sunlight, the towering Mallorn trees... And the Lady herself. Beautiful and wise beyond reason.  
  
And now Daemon was going to meet her!  
  
He shook his head to clear it as Legolas gestured him to follow. "Uh, we're not going to have to be blindfolded are we? I mean... I've never been here before and all..."  
  
The Elf laughed, causing his companion to blush. But Daemon liked the sound. It reminded him of water rushing over rocks in a musical tone. "No. We will not be forced to be blindfolded as you heard my companions and I were. The Marchwardens are expecting us, so we will be able to pass through unhindered."  
  
"Good. Cause I really want to see what it's like." Daemon trudged behind Legolas, looking all around him at the unfamiliar landscape. "In the books, they say it's unbelievable."  
  
"Indeed it is," Legolas answered with a reverent tone in his voice. "It's unlike anything you've ever seen. Winter never touches it. The flowers are always in bloom, and the breezes whisper soothing thoughts to you."  
  
Daemon sighed. ~Sounds like heaven. I wish there had been a place like that on Earth.~  
  
He was startled by the feel of cool fingers upon his hand, gently turning it over. Looking up, he found Legolas staring at his wrist, gently tracing the white vertical scar that was there. Daemon suddenly jerked his hand away and lowered his head.  
  
"Why did you do it, Daemon Kincaid?" Legolas's voice was soft, not sounding the least bit angry or upset. "Why did you wish to end your life?"  
  
Daemon didn't answer right away. He stared down at his bandaged hand and the scar that Legolas had been running his finger down just a moment ago. "I don't want to talk about it," he said in a faint voice. "Not yet."  
  
"I apologize. I did not mean for you to visit past memories. That life is over now. You're safe here."  
  
The boy looked up and smiled, *really* smiled. His first genuine smile in such a long time. "Hey, it's okay. You didn't know. And it's Daemon, just Daemon. You don't have to always put the Kincaid on there."  
  
"As you wish, Daemon." Legolas hesitated a little over the name, then a puzzled look came over his face. "If you do not mind my asking, why is it that your parents felt the need to call you a demon?"  
  
Daemon couldn't help but chuckle at the question and the tone of voice in which it was spoken. It sounded as if this was a very serious question for the Elf. "They didn't really name me after a demon. Daemon happens to be very poplar name where I come from, and both of my parents liked it. So I was named Daemon Nicholas Kincaid."  
  
"I see." Legolas still sounded a bit confused, but Daemon could think of no better way to explain it. "So you are not the only Daemon on your world?"  
  
"No...though I've never met another one myself." A sudden thought struck him. "Legolas, what if I'm not the right person? What if there's another Daemon Kincaid, and he's the one you need? What if I don't have any of these powers that you say I have? What if they all hate me?" Panic was beginning to course through him.   
  
Legolas was at his side instantly. "Calm down," he said soothingly, patting him on the back awkwardly. He did not know how to handle these mortals sometimes. "That's not true. You *are* the Daemon Kincaid we sought. You fit everything in the prophecy. The Lady Galadriel herself sent me after you. You are the Bard that will save our world. Do not doubt yourself."  
  
Daemon gulped in a lungful of air and nodded, but he could still feel his hands shaking. Angrily clenching them into fists, he shoved them into his pockets. ~Way to go, Kincaid. Here you are, in the place of your dreams. You're with the most beautiful creature ever to grace your life, and he's going to think you're a nutcase. You've got to stay calm. If you start breaking down, you may get sent back home. And you wouldn't be able to handle that.~   
  
Legolas smiled, seeing that he was okay, and stepped away again. "We are almost at the borders of Lothlorien," he said in a bright voice, hoping to get that gloomy look off of his companion's face. "Soon you will be in the realm of the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel."  
  
Daemon wanted to ask a question that he'd always wondered about---~why didn't Sauron come after the Elves and their Rings first, even though they had them hidden away? It seems as if they were the most powerful of the lesser Rings~----but was interrupted by a silver-haired Elf that suddenly appeared out of nowhere in front of them.  
  
"Greetings, Legolas Thranduillion," he said in a liquid voice. "I bid you welcome to the Golden Wood once more."  
  
Daemon couldn't help but gape at him. He *knew* this Elf! Morrigan always turned dreamy when she spoke of him while reading the books, and refused to watch the part in the second movie when he died.  
  
"You're Haldir!" he said, finally remembering the Elf's name.  
  
The Marchwarden of Lorien looked at the young Man, then turned to the Elf prince and raised a cool eyebrow. Legolas just shrugged and gave him one of those 'it's a long story' looks. Haldir turned back to Daemon. "That is indeed my name. And you must be Daemon Kincaid." He gave a bow. "I bid you welcome to the Golden Wood."  
  
Daemon didn't know what to do, so he bowed back, earning him raised eyebrows from both the Elves. "Thank you."  
  
Haldir gave a nod at this. "Come. You are to follow me. The Lady is waiting."  
  
Daemon swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat and meekly followed the two Elves as they made their way into Lothlorien.  
  
----------------------------------  
  
It didn't take the young human long to forget about his earlier fears. He was too enchanted by his surroundings that he often fell behind his two companions.  
  
The movie hadn't done it justice. The sunlight dappled the ground in a hazy yellow, and soft breezes sent the leaves swirling gently to the ground. The Mallorn trees towered high above him, and he occasionally glimpsed a swirl of silver that marked the passing of an Elf. ~It's so beautiful here...~  
  
Before he knew it, they had come to a stop at the base of one of the great trees. Two guards stood there, and one immediately stepped to his side in silence.   
  
Haldir nodded at the Elf, then turned his eyes to Daemon. "The Lady awaits you, Daemon Kincaid."  
  
Daemon blinked. "I have to go alone?" he whispered. ~I have to face her by myself? What if Legolas was wrong? What if I'm not who they need? I can't go by myself!~  
  
He threw a desperate look at the younger Elf. "Legolas!"  
  
An encouraging a smile crossed that fair face. "It will be all right, Daemon. I promise."  
  
Daemon was alone. ~Just like always.~  
  
He lowered his head and turned away, following his escort that had already began the long climb.  
  
--------------------------------  
  
Legolas couldn't help but bite his lower lip as he watched the human boy climb up the steps with a look of one who was going to his own execution. ~Perhaps I should have gone with him. He's so afraid right now. I can feel it....~  
  
"He reminds me of you," came Haldir's soft voice from his right. "I remember a time when you would lash out if anyone tried to leave you."  
  
Almost unconsciously, Legolas tugged his arm bracers down over his wrists. "That was a long time ago," he answered just as softly. "I got over it, and he will too. He only needs time. And friendship."  
  
This caused the other Elf to smile. "And I'm sure you will give him plenty of both. Now come. I want to hear all about your adventures."  
  
-----------------------------------  
  
Daemon had never climbed so many stairs in his life. By the time he reached the top, he wanted to fall over in exhaustion. But he was too excited, too nervous to do so.  
  
His Elven guard, who had remained silent the entire time, beckoned him forward and nodded at a platform that was situated at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Keeping his head down, he walked to the appointed spot and stopped.  
  
He felt like some kind of circus freak on display. ~The Boy With Missing Fingers,~ he thought bitterly. ~Come one, come all. See this useless person who lost everything he ever dreamed of. Feel sorry for him, and be glad it wasn't you.~  
  
"We welcome you to Middle-Earth and to Lothlorien, Daemon Kincaid," came a soft, crystal voice from before him.  
  
Daemon looked up, and felt his jaw drop in shock. He had to resist the urge to drop to one knee, and lowered his head back down instead.  
  
Before him stood Lady Galadriel.  
  
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I apologize for the overall cheeziness of this story. I know it could be better. But please just bear with me. And if you can think of anything to improve it, I am open to suggestions. 


	3. Tomorrow in Today

Well, wouldn't you know it? Three chapters in three days! Man, I can't seem to get away from this thing. I sit down when I get a break from writing my other stories and bang this one out. Very scary....  
  
I encourage you all to watch 'Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.' You haven't seen anything until you see Hugo Weaving---yes, our regal Lord Elrond---in drag. He make an interesting looking woman, I might add....  
  
Warnings: Contains slash, suicide, and other nasty thoughts.  
  
Disclaimer: *sigh* Nope. Just a poor student/musician. Sadly to say, I do not own them. The title come from 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath.  
  
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Dreams in Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 3: Tomorrow in Today  
  
--------------------------------------  
  
"I found tomorrow in today."  
  
---------- "Edge of the Earth" 30 Seconds to Mars  
  
------------------------------------  
  
Daemon was shaking all over. He was, to put it simply, a nervous wreck. Not only was he in the presence of one of the most respected and looked-to figures in the stories of Middle-Earth, but he couldn't get the notion out of his head that they had somehow made a mistake. That he was not the person they needed.  
  
He could hear the soft swish of her gown as she moved closer and he winced, waiting for her to read his mind and find out how wrong she had been. ~They'll send me back. They *can't* send me back! I can't go!"  
  
A gentle hand gripped his chin and forced him to look up. What he saw there took his breath away.  
  
Looking down at him was the kindest pair of blue eyes that he had ever seen. They were deep, betraying all the wisdom of her apparent youth. They sparkled with an inner light that he had never witnessed in another person during his seventeen years of life. He wondered if he could be pulled into them, drown in them, forget all his woes...  
  
"Do not fear, Daemon Kincaid," came that crystal voice yet again. "You are wrong in your thinking. You are indeed the one who has been prophesied to save our land. And no, we are not going to send you back."  
  
Still staring at her, he swallowed with difficulty. "You're not?" he managed to whisper.  
  
With a smile, she shook her head. "No. You are most welcome here. Now, please stand. I can't speak with you if you are groveling. And we have much to speak of."  
  
Daemon let her pull him to his feet, though he wasn't too sure if he could stand on his own accord just yet. He felt dizzy, almost like when he and Legolas had come through the ---~what *was* that? Portal, spell, gate?~---that brought them to Middle-Earth. But it was a different kind of dizziness. He didn't mind it so much.  
  
"Now, then. I am sure that you are more than a little confused at why we have brought you here."  
  
"I am."  
  
Galadriel's smile widened. "Don't worry. I think I had our young Legolas confused as well."  
  
At the mention of the other Elf's name, Daemon felt a blush rise into his cheeks---~She can read minds, you idiot!~----but his host didn't seem to notice. "I shall try to explain it to the best of my abilities. He told you about Chaos and his Death Guards. He also told you that you are a Bard, the possessor of Creative Magick. And, with that magick, we hope to be able to battle this Evil that has risen.  
  
"I know that you fear you no longer posses this magick since your means for making music was taken away." She nodded at his bandaged hand and, for once, he didn't hide it. "That is not true. It is the colors of the music that contains the magick. When you played, you could close your eyes and see colors that went with the beats and rhythms. I am correct in this assumption, no?"  
  
Daemon blinked at her. ~How did she...? I *never* told anyone about that! Not even Morrigan!~ He swallowed hard. "You are right, my Lady."  
  
"That is how the magick works, Daemon Kincaid. You do not have to be playing the music. You can close your eyes, remember that music which you once created, see the colors, use the magick. The sounding of the music itself does not matter. You created music. You created life. And that is what we need."  
  
In wonder, the boy stared down at his hands. ~All that time I spent writing music. Those blank pieces of sheet music Morrigan gave me... *That's* what counted. Not the playing.~  
  
Galadriel leaned forward to peer at him. "Do you understand, Daemon Kincaid?"  
  
"I---I think so," he managed to get out. "But I don't know how to use it. I know nothing of magick. My best friend was a Wiccan, a witch of sorts. But I never really understood what she was doing."  
  
That beautiful smile was back in place. "Don't worry. You will learn to use it with time. And you will have help, have no fear. We are not sending you on the mission alone. Though it will be some time before you're ready to face Chaos himself, do not doubt that he will send others to try to be rid of you." Her smile faded. "Undoubtedly he knows of our plans to bring a Bard here. Even here, in the woods of Lothlorien, we are not always safe from him. He may not know who you are yet, but it is only a matter of time."   
  
Suddenly serious, she captured him in that breathtaking gaze once more. "Now that you have some idea of what lies ahead, are you still up to the challenge, Daemon Kincaid?"  
  
"Yes," he answered without a moment's hesitation. "I will do whatever it is you need of me. I have nothing but death to look forward to if I do not. I---I'm just afraid that I'll let you down. I'm not a warrior, and I know nothing of this world. What if I fail?"  
  
She came to him once again, placing a hand on his cheek. "Do not doubt your worth, young Daemon Kincaid. It is not a warrior that we sought. We have those aplenty here, and they have been able to do nothing. As for your knowledge of this world, that will come with time. This is your home now. Your heart resides here, in more ways then one."  
  
He frowned, not understanding. "My Lady?"  
  
But she just smiled. "Time, Daemon Kincaid. All will be reveled with time. Now, have I managed to explain everything to you? I'm afraid I don't have all the answers yet. There are things to which even I am blind."  
  
A slight frown stole over his face. "I think I have understood everything you've told me, my Lady. I suppose I will have questions later, but I can't think of any right now. Except...why me?"  
  
"Spoken like a true hero." With that, she turned to one of the guards standing nearby. "Rumil, please go fetch your brother and Legolas. They will be staying here tonight, then making for Gondor in the morning."  
  
The guard in question bowed and, with a 'As you wish, my Lady,' he began to fairly skip down the stairs.  
  
Daemon watched him go before turning back to the regal figure in front of him. "'They'?"  
  
"I told you that I would not be sending you alone. Legolas is to be your escort. Your guard. He can teach you things that I confess I have very little skill at. You will go to Gondor to learn of swordplay. While we do not need a warrior, you will need to be able to protect yourself. And I'm sure Aragorn will not mind taking time away from being King to teach you."  
  
Daemon's jaw dropped at them mention of yet another illustrious name. Aragorn had been a key figure in the story. Well, as much of the story as he knew. Morrigan had been at the Paths of the Dead when he had torn off into the night in his mother's Lexus. He had always known that Aragorn would become king, even though he didn't want to.  
  
"Lady Galadriel, I do have one question."  
  
She raised an eyebrow---~do all these Elves do that?~---and simply said 'Yes?'  
  
He couldn't help but fidget. That stare was so intense! "Legolas said that an Elf had come to my world to tell the story of Frodo and all. I'm afraid I never got to the end, and I was wondering...How *does* it end? Does Frodo make it? And what about the battles?"  
  
That kind smile was back in place. "The story isn't over," she said softly. "The story is never over. Your part in this is just another chapter."  
  
Daemon lowered his eyes. He had a feeling that he wouldn't get a clearer answer than the one he had just received.  
  
It didn't seem to take the three Elves that long to get back, and they all bowed at once. Daemon watched curiously as they touched their hearts then extended their hands out in Galadriel's direction.  
  
"My Lady," Legolas asked softly, not seeming to notice that the young human's gaze was fixed upon him. "You wanted to see me?"  
  
"Yes, and thank you for coming." She gestured to Daemon, who quickly averted his gaze with a blush. ~Way to go, Kincaid. He's going to think you're stalking him.~ "I want you to accompany the boy to Gondor, to teach him."  
  
A slight frown crossed the Elf's face. "I am flattered by the Lady's confidence in me, but I must ask why? What can I teach him? I know no magick, and am very limited with swords." He didn't mention that there was no point in teaching Daemon archery, what with him having only one hand. They were all aware of it, and had no wish to draw attention to it.  
  
Daemon felt his heart sink. ~He doesn't want to go. Can't say I blame him. I'm not the best company. Maybe I can go on my own. I've always had a good sense of direction. I've been alone for so long now. It shouldn't be a problem.~  
  
"Which is why you are going to Gondor," Galadriel answered. "I sent a message to Elessar when I sent you to Earth. He is expecting your arrival, and I am sure he would love to teach our young friend here the finer arts of war. As for magick, I shall take care of that. Teach him what you know, control being the key. Then, once you've completed your task in Gondor, bring him back here."  
  
Legolas bowed. "I shall do as my Lady wishes." With that, he turned to give the boy an encouraging smile. But Daemon was looking at the floor, that forlorn expression back on his face.  
  
Legolas felt something tug at his heart, and a his brows came together. He wondered what could put the human in such a mood. Lothlorien was a beautiful place, capable of brightening anyone's spirits.  
  
~I shall speak with him tonight. I don't know if I can to travel with him in such a state, for it will surely break my heart.~  
  
-----------------------------------------  
  
Daemon stood at the base of the tree that would be their shelter for the night. He had his eyes closed, letting the wind blow his hair and caress his face, whispering promises that everything would be all right.  
  
"It is peaceful here, yes?" came a soft voice from his right.  
  
Normally, he would've jumped. But he was so content... "Yes," he answered. "It's very peaceful."  
  
Legolas let out a sigh. "Tell me what troubles you, Daemon. You've been cold ever since we left the Lady Galadriel, and you seem very sad."  
  
"It's nothing," was the reply. Daemon's eyes stayed closed. "Nothing at all."  
  
"Very well, then. I shall not press further." There was a pause, as Legolas tried to fight down his frustration. "Do you miss your home?"  
  
"This is my home now," Daemon was quick to reply. "The Lady said so. I have a purpose here." He opened his eyes, and Legolas was struck by the raw emotion in them. ~Did I look like that once?~ "Back in my world, I had nothing. The only person that I could be around was Morrigan, my best friend. I had a tomorrow once. A future. But that got taken away. Not anywhere. I found my tomorrow today. And I can look forward to it again."  
  
The Elf smiled as he laid a hand on the mortal's shoulder. "And I am more than happy to face it with you. Now, get some sleep. We have a long Road ahead of us in the morning."  
  
--------------------------------  
  
Again, I apologize for it being so cheesy. Hopefully you'll all bear with me. If not...*shrugs* It's no big deal. 


	4. Behind Blue Eyes

Another chapter! Whoo hoo! Go me! I'm glad I've managed to get a few of you hooked. I feel really happy. *beams*  
  
I want to dedicate this chapter to my friend Alec, who taught me today that you never really lose friendships. I'm glad to have you a part of my life again!  
  
Warnings: suicide, slash, yadda, yadda.  
  
Disclaimer: All the Middle-Earth people belong to Tolkien. Well, except the ones with the cheesy names. I really apologize for that. The title comes from 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath.  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Dreams in Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 4: Behind Blue Eyes  
  
--------------------------------  
  
No one knows what it's like to be the bad man, to be the sad man behind blue eyes.  
  
-------------'Behind Blue Eyes' The Who  
  
------------------------------  
  
Though Daemon was in the most peaceful place he had ever slept, he still had nightmares. He always had nightmares. Ever since the accident.  
  
Friends, family...All these faces floated before him, whispering harsh things. 'You're no good,' one would say. 'No one wants you around,' another would sneer.  
  
He would run. He would run as fast as he could, but they still followed. Even when he covered his ears he could still hear them, the hateful whispers echoing through his head. He couldn't get away. He would run forever, and never escape them.  
  
He was more than relieved when Legolas awoke him at dawn to get ready for their journey.  
  
First thing on the agenda was clothes. While Daemon's clothes were quite comfortable, they were not made for traveling and the elements. So his jeans were traded for brown leggings, his shirt for a green tunic, and his sneakers for soft boots. He was also given a cloak, which delighted him to no end.  
  
Legolas was pleased with the look. "With your height and blond hair, you could almost pass for an Elf," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Though I've never seen an Elf with hair as short as yours."  
  
Daemon blushed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I never liked it long," he said. "I guess I need to let it grow out here. Guys here have long hair, don't they?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know," Legolas said softly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair away from his face. Daemon closed his eyes as he felt a shiver course through him. "I like your hair. It's so soft."  
  
The boy leaned in closer to the Elf's hand, and felt a slight brush across his cheek. More shivers ran through him. He had to fight the urge to wrap his arms around his companion, lean in to him, cry his burdens away...  
  
With a smile, Legolas stepped away. "Come," he said, voice still gentle. "Let's go."  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Daemon was very sad to be leaving Lothlorien. It was so beautiful and peaceful. He felt safe here, the first time he'd felt so in a very long time. No one had said anything about his hand, he hadn't gotten any strange looks, and no one had been whispering behind their hands when he passed by. Legolas was nothing short of friendly, the Lady Galadriel had treated him with respect, and Haldir had been polite. The others Elves had given him nods as he had left the Golden Woods.  
  
Galadriel had given them a regal farewell, sending them off to Gondor with her blessings. Both Legolas and Daemon had given her a bow before turning to leave.  
  
It seemed to Daemon as though the trees were singing as they left. Melodies such as he had never heard floated on the breeze, winding around him. He closed his eyes, feeling as if they could carry him all the way to Gondor.  
  
"Daemon?"  
  
"Can you hear it?" he said softly, a smile crossing his face. "The trees. They're singing to us. Telling us goodbye and giving us hope."  
  
Legolas stared at him in amazement. "You *are* an Elf! Hearing the trees sing... I have never heard another mortal say that. Then again, you are a Bard. Mayhap it's something specific to you and your kind."  
  
Daemon shrugged. "I've heard music in everything all my life. I've heard music even in war, the clashing drums and loud horns. It's harsh, yes. But it's there."  
  
"If that be the case, then you have a mighty gift indeed. For anyone to see something besides death and distruction in war..."  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
The two fell silent, walking side by side. Daemon kept his eyes to the ground, letting Legolas lead. The Elf kept a wary eye out for any manner of evil creatures, even though he doubted there would be any this close to the woods of Lothlorien. But he couldn't help but watch his human companion out of the corner of his eye. He still didn't know what was bothering the boy, and it disturbed him greatly.  
  
As for earlier, when he had touched Daemon's hair... He hadn't been able to deny the slight fluttering that had arisen in his heart. And when Daemon had closed his eyes and leaned closer, he had wanted nothing more that to gently brush a thumb across those pale lips...  
  
He tugged at his arm bracers again. ~Stop that,~ he said firmly. ~You made a promise to yourself long ago, and you are not about to break it because of a pair of blue eyes. No matter what it is that lies behind them.~  
  
He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to make Daemon want to end his life. Sure, he had lost the means to make his music, but would that be enough to take someone into such a low mood?  
  
The boy didn't want to talk. That much was certain, and it frustrated Legolas to no end. He wanted to help Daemon. He wanted to show him the joys of life again, the good that was in the world. But it was so hard with Daemon shutting himself off. He thought they had made a connection of some kind the day before, and that touch earlier...   
  
~You can't blame him for pushing his feeling away,~ he told himself. ~You did it yourself, remember?~  
  
"Tell me more about your world," he said in a cheerful voice. "What about this friend you mentioned. Morrigan?"  
  
"Morrigan, right." Daemon lifted his head at that, and Legolas mentally congratulated himself.   
  
"Ah, a nymph." The Elf couldn't help but smile. "It seems appropriate. A demon and a nymph. How did you meet?"  
  
"Through a friend. He was trying to teach her to play guitar---ah, a lute, you would call it---and was having a hard time with it. She was stubborn, and got easily frustrated. He had a short temper, and couldn't handle being around her. So he asked me to help her instead."  
  
A smile turned his lips up, and a twinkle was in his eyes. "I agreed. I've never been able to turn down a challenge, and I always loved teaching others.   
  
"After our first lesson, I could see what my friend had ment. Morrigan was one of those people that, if she didn't get it right the first time, she would give up. But I had seen the potential there. She could hear the music just fine. It was getting her fingers in the right places to make the right sound that was difficult. So we kept going. There were a few times we wanted to kill one another, but we didn't.  
  
"Soon, she was playing almost as well as me. It wasn't such a difficulty for her anymore, and she learned new pieces with joy. We'd write together, making up songs that contained duets in them so that we could play together. I asked her to join my band, and she did."  
  
Legolas was amazed at the transformation that had come over his companion. ~This is the most animated I've seen him yet.~  
  
"We were inseparable after that. People used to joke that we were joined at the hip. Through everything that happened, she was the only one who stayed by my side. She was the one who showed me that I could still find meaning in music, and it was she that introduced me to Middle-Earth. She's the only one I miss."  
  
~Perhaps there is more behind those blue eyes than I first thought.~ "I understand," Legolas said softly. "You read of Aragorn as well, yes? Well, he and I are much like you and your nymph. He is the closest thing to a brother I have. I would move mountains for him if I could. Whenever I fell into despair, he was the one to help me climb back out. I owe a lot to him."  
  
That said, the two fell back into silence. But this time, it was a companionable one. And Legolas felt as though he was beginning to understand his young friend a little more.  
  
------------------------------------  
  
The day went by quickly. They spoke rarely, saving their breath for walking. Daemon began to feel sore and tired after awhile---he wasn't used to so much walking---but didn't say a word. He'd never been one to complain, and he wasn't about to start now. Besides, he didn't mind it so much. The scenery was beautiful, and he nearly wept when he saw the glorious sunset sending golden rays out to caress the land.  
  
Legolas allowed him to gather firewood, which made him feel useful and happy. He watched in awe as the Elf crept up on an unsuspecting deer and kill it with one arrow.  
  
The two happily argued over how to fix it, then ate a delicious dinner.  
  
"I never thought I could enjoy eating deer," Daemon said with a wistful sigh, patting his satisfied stomach. "But that was some of the best tasting meat I've ever eaten."  
  
Legolas lifted an eyebrow. "You do not eat deer where you come from?"  
  
"No, not really. Some people do, but it's not a widely accepted thing."  
  
"Then what kind of meat do you eat."  
  
Daemon covered his mouth as he felt a burp coming. "Cow."  
  
The Elf looked at him with wide eyes, positively horrified. "Cow?? You cannot tell me that you eat someone's pet!"  
  
Daemon couldn't help but laugh at this. "Things are different where I come from, Legolas. Cows are raised for this sort of thing. We get milk from cows, as well as meat. We don't just take someone's 'pet'. As awful as this may sound, most cows are born just to be eaten."  
  
Legolas just shook his head in disbelief. "I do not think I like this world of yours very much."  
  
Daemon closed his eyes and laid back. Now that he had eaten, he could feel the weariness start to set in. "Don't worry," he murmured drowsily. "I'm not too fond of it either."  
  
With that, he fell asleep.  
  
A smiled playing across his lips, Legolas unclasped his own cloak and gently spread it across the young human. "Idh mae, Daemon Kincaid," he murmured softly, brushing some of the boy's hair away. (1) Then, finding a suitable spot not far from the fire, Legolas sat back to keep watch throughout the long night.  
  
-------------------------------  
  
(1) Idh mae------Rest well 


	5. Fear

Well, folks. This is my last chapter for a bit. I'm going back to school tomorrow *does happy dance* and unless I can get my antique of a computer hooked to the net, I'll have to update whenever I come home. A bit sad, really. It's relaxing to sit down every night and write this.  
  
GO TITANS!!!!  
  
Warnings: Contains slash and suicide.  
  
Disclaimer: Unless I'm somehow dead and just don't know it, the whole concept of Middle-Earth and its denizens don't belong to me. The title comes from 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath.  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Dreams in Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 5: Fear  
  
-------------------------------  
  
But I fear I have nothing to give and I have so much to lose.  
  
--------------"Fear" Sarah McLachlan  
  
-------------------------------  
  
Daemon awoke to the smell of frying sausage and managed to open one bleary eye.  
  
"Good morning," came a cheery voice. "I hope you don't mind sausage and tomatoes. I'm afraid it's all we have for breakfast. I want to save the meat from the deer for later, in case we can't find something to eat."  
  
Daemon slowly sat up, wincing as his back popped. The smell was making his stomach grumble, but he had other things on his mind than food. "Did you get any sleep last night?"  
  
Legolas shook his head, his golden locks falling over his face as he poked at the embers with a stick. "There was no need. Elves do not need much sleep, and I got enough in Lothlorien to last me for a bit."  
  
Daemon felt anger well up in him. "You could have woken me, Legolas. I know I can't do any kind of fighting. Not unless they make bows for one-handed people. But I still could have kept watch. I'm not *completly* useless!"  
  
"I know this," the Elf replied smoothly, not bothering to glance in the human's direction. "And you will be keeping watch, have no doubt. But you are not as used to traveling as I, and it did not take a great mind to see that you were exhausted. If we are to make it to Gondor in a decent amount of time, then we will need to keep a good pace. We won't be able to do that if you lag behind, will we?"  
  
"I will *not* lag behind!" the human snarled as he jumped to his feet. "I will not be a burden to you, and I'm sorry that you think of me such. So I guess we can part ways now. Goodbye." With that, he strode off into the woods.  
  
Legolas blinked at him in surprise. In a flash he was on his feet and running after the human. "Daemon! Daemon, wait!"  
  
"Forget it, Legolas," came the growled reply. Daemon was just ahead. "Just point me in the right direction, and I'll be off your hands. I am quite capable to making it on my own."  
  
"Will you just *stop* for a minute?" Legolas reached out and grasped the boy's forearm, causing him to halt. Daemon tried to break free, but the Elf's grip was just too strong. "I am not letting you go alone. The Lady Galadriel asked me to---"  
  
Daemon's mocking laughter cut him off. "The Lady Galadriel asked you, huh? Well, you can tell the Lady Galadriel that she didn't have to ask anyone to come along with me. Apparently, I'm the only one who can fight this guy. So why should you have to tag along as well? Go on back home."  
  
Legolas ground his teeth. ~I was right. *All* mortals are as stubborn as Estel.~ "*I* will not let you go alone. I would have come along, even if the Lady Galadriel had not asked. For all your talk, you know very little of Middle-Earth, and less of this magick that you must use to save our home. You need someone to guide you. *I* promised to stand by your side, and so I shall."  
  
Daemon fell silent, but he didn't turn to face the Elf. Nor did he relax. He stayed as taut as a bowstring.  
  
"Why?" he finally asked. "Out of all the people in Middle-Earth, why did they ask *you* to come along? What made you special enough to get stuck with the crazy boy who's supposed to save the world?"  
  
Legolas gave a sad smile. "Let's just say that you and I have more in common than you think. Besides, I have no family waiting for me at home and Ithillien does not need me there all of the time. I was the logical choice."  
  
"I see."  
  
Legolas waited for a moment, hoping that his companion would say something else. When nothing was forthcoming, he sighed and gently tugged on the boy's arm. "Come. We need to be leaving soon, and my stomach is reminding me that it can't go very far without any food in it!"  
  
-------------------------------  
  
They stayed silent all through breakfast, Daemon keeping his eyes on the ground so that he wouldn't have to make eye contact.  
  
Legolas used this opportunity to study his companion. He had watched him sleep the night before, but he seemed so much different in the daylight.  
  
His eyes were of a blue that was two or three shades darker than Legolas's own. His blond hair swirled about his eyes when the wind blew. The hand that Legolas could see had long and slender fingers. Daemon was tall and lithe, but strong. Legolas could see the boy's muscles rippling under his shirt as he walked. His shoulders were slumped, though, and he slouched as he walked. It seemed as though he didn't want anyone to notice him.  
  
~How could they not?~ Legolas thought with some amusement. ~When we reach Gondor, he will have many of the ladies---and men---under his spell.~  
  
The young man had that feminine beauty about his face that people always found so striking on males. He had long eyelashes, and a strong, aquiline nose that spoke of nobility. His lips were a bit thin, but not too much so. His skin was pale, but not sickly. And his cheeks were a bit rosy from the wind and sun, giving him the look of a doll. Legolas thought him rather striking.  
  
~He really *could* pass for an Elf. Just let his hair grow out...~  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
The Elf blinked as he came back into awareness, then blushed fiercely as he realized that he'd been staring. "I---I am sorry. I was lost in thought. What is it you wanted?"  
  
"I asked if you were ready to go. You said you wanted to leave soon."  
  
Legolas nodded as he got to his feet. "Yes. Yes, of course. If you will kindly put the fire out, I will gather our belongings."  
  
With a curt nod, Daemon stood and left to do as he was told.  
  
Legolas put a hand to his chest to try and stop the fluttering that was there. He knew he should not become this flustered over a boy he had just met, but his heart had other plans.  
  
~You're just going to have to get over it,~ he told himself sternly. ~Nothing is going to happen. I won't let it. Not again.~  
  
A loud hiss echoed around their camp as Daemon poured water he had gotten from a nearby stream over the fire. Legolas glanced around and nodded. Except for the scattered ashes, no one would know they had been here.  
  
"All right," he said quietly. "Let's go."  
  
------------------------------------------------  
  
"You can keep watch tonight, if you are so eager to do so."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"I must warn you that Elves sleep with their eyes open. Most people find it faintly disturbing."  
  
"So I've heard."  
  
Legolas couldn't help but frown. He had been trying all morning to draw his companion into friendly conversation, but so far all he'd gotten were two or three word sentences. It was most disheartening, but he wasn't one to give up without a fight.  
  
"I think you will love Gondor. It's quite beautiful. When the sun hits it, it shines like silver. It was rebuilt after the War of the Ring, and my friend Gimli brought a team of Dwarves to help."  
  
"That's nice."  
  
"And Aragorn and Arwen...No finer people will you ever meet. They support one another completely, and it is that love and support that has made Minas Tirith such a strong city."  
  
"I suppose you'll be spending all your time with them." Legolas didn't miss the bitterness in Daemon's voice. "Catching up with old friends while I learn to fight."  
  
Legolas came to a halt and didn't move until Daemon, finally realizing that the Elf was no longer beside him, stopped and turned to him with a questioning look. "Listen, I do not know the reason for this fear that you have about my leaving you. Yes, I *will* spend some time with Aragorn and Arwen, but that is not why I am here. I am here to help you learn to fight. No one forced me to come along with you, Daemon. I offered myself. I promised to stand by you until the end, and that is what I am going to do."  
  
Daemon turned away in what appeared to be pain at these words, and muttered something that Legolas guessed he wasn't supposed to hear. But, thanks to his Elvish hearing, he picked the words up easily.  
  
"That's what they all said."  
  
------------------------------------  
  
The trip to Gondor was uneventful. Daemon and Legolas took turns keeping watch, and Legolas kept up in his effort to get Daemon to open up. The boy obliged him a bit by sitting and talking every now and then. It wasn't what Legolas had hoped for, but it was a better than what it had been.  
  
Around noon on the fifth day, Legolas suddenly let out a cry and darted forward, his blond hair streaming out behind him.  
  
"Legolas!" Daemon called, feeling panic well up in him. ~He's leaving. You drove him off, just like everyone else. And he was being so nice to you!~  
  
As the boy watched apprehensively, Legolas scrambled to the top of all hill and stopped, staring off into the distance. When he turned back, Daemon could see that his eyes were shinning with excitement. Those blue eyes that always caused his heart to do a tap-dance within his rib cage. "Come on, you slow human!" he called teasingly. "There is something I want you to see."  
  
Silently cursing himself for nearly losing his cool, Daemon began to make his way up the hill. It took him awhile, but he was finally standing next to the Elf.  
  
What he saw there took his breath away.  
  
An city made up entirely of white stone stood before him, gleaming in the afternoon sun. It was made into levels, with a ledge of some sort being at the top. A great wall went around it, protecting it from outside enemies.  
  
"Behold," Legolas said in a quiet, reverent voice. "The White City of Minas Tirith." 


	6. Is Anybody Even There?

I am so sorry for the long delay! It has been soooo crazy since I came back to school. Work, class, sorority stuff...Then my car went boom, so I can't go home. But that's not such a bad thing. Anywho...  
  
This story contains slash and suicide. You have been warned!  
  
Disclaimer: Most of the characters and places in this story do not belong to me, but to the immensely brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien. The title of comes from 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath.  
  
---------------  
  
Dreams of Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 6: Is Anybody Even There?  
  
----------------------------  
  
"Is anybody even there who doesn't just pretend to care?"  
  
  
  
---Oleander "Are You There?"  
  
-----------------------------  
  
Daemon couldn't help but look around him in awe. The city was fair teeming with life. He had never been around so many people at once in his life! As Legolas led his human companion deeper and deeper into the city, Daemon completely forgot who and where he was.  
  
The people there were so much different from the people he had known back in his home. All the women wore dresses, and many of them wore headscarves as well. None of them had short hair, like his friend Morrigan. Most of the men had long hair and wore beards. They were simply clothed in tunics and leggings, but Daemon noticed many of them in shinning armor. He guessed them to be the city guard.  
  
Legolas turned to speak with the boy, and had to smile at the look of utter awe on his face. "There's nothing like seeing Minas Tirith for the first time, is there?" he asked softly. "It never changes, even when you've been here numerous times. It's become a second home to me since Aragorn took the throne, and I still find myself struck speechless by the sheer beauty of it sometimes."  
  
"It's just... so different than anything I've ever seen before," Daemon admitted as they watched a young boy run after a laughing girl carrying a basket of fruit. "The people dress differently, act differently, talk differently... I've never seen a city built like this before. Where I'm from, our buildings are made of metal. Of chrome and glass. Not just stone and wood."  
  
Legolas titled his head to the side as they continued walking. "Metal? Like...the steel that is used to form swords?"  
  
Daemon nodded. "Yes. Like that."  
  
The Elf shuddered. "I do not think I could live in a metal house. They are not natural. And would they not be cold?"  
  
"They can be. But we have what is called a heating and cooling system. It's a machine that sends out warm air when you're cold and cool air when you're hot. You can adjust it so that the temperature is just what you want it to be."  
  
Legolas stopped in his tracks to stare at his companion. "You can do this?" he asked in astonishment. "Actually make your home warmer or cooler?"  
  
At Daemon's nod, the Elf shook his head. "We will have to speak of this more. I would like to learn of your former life. It seems as though it is...fantastic. Unbelievable."  
  
The boy had to laugh at that. "Funny. That's what we said about *this* world."  
  
They continued walking again, Legolas leading his companion up to the third ring of the city. As they walked, he told Daemon of some of the history of the city. He spoke of the battle of Pelennor Fields, and how a group of Dwarves, lead by Gimli, helped to rebuild the magnificent structures. He spoke somberly of Denathor, last Steward of Gondor and father to Boromir and Faramir, who set himself aflame before taking a dive from the highest point of the city. He spoke fondly of the crowning ceremony of Aragorn, how he himself had promised the new king he would not depart from this land until the human had taken his last breath, and how Aragorn had given him the land of Ithilian, the land Legolas had often spoke of wanting to restore to it's former beauty.  
  
Daemon couldn't help but smile at the passion with which his Elven companion spoke. He had once spoken the same way about music, speaking from his heart about the different instruments blending together to form complex harmonies that made you want to cry. He could go on for hours about something that few other people understood or even cared about. That was what Legolas was doing now, and it once again pointed out that the two blondes weren't so different.  
  
And to watch him... That was a real treat indeed. To see the way his eyes sparkled, and to see that dazzling smile stretch across his face set Daemon's heart fluttering. The Elf was beautiful all the time, but his face was absolutely glowing as he went on and on about his home world.  
  
Finally, Daemon could no longer hold his laughter in. "Legolas, slow down!" he said, holding out a hand. "You're talking so fast that I can barely understand what you're saying."  
  
Legolas blinked for a moment, then blushed. "I am sorry," he said sincerely. "I did not mean to confuse you. But I tend to...get carried away when I speak of this place."  
  
Daemon smiled. "It's all right. I used to do that, too. Back when I had something to talk about."  
  
The Elf's smile vanished and he was about to ask what his companion meant, but was interrupted by a voice calling his name.  
  
Immediately his face lit up as he whirled around. "Aragorn!"  
  
----------------  
  
Daemon felt his nerves jolt as he realized he was about to get his first glimpse of the famed Aragorn, king of Gondor and Legolas's best friend. He felt himself shrinking back as a brown-haired man came running down a flight of stairs and threw his arms out wide just in time to catch a blond Elf that dove into them.  
  
The two life-long friends laughed as they held each other for the first time in what Daemon guessed to be months. He tried to shove down the twinge of jealousy that arose in him at the sight of the two of them together. He wanted to slip away, just disappear into the shadows.  
  
But he found that he wouldn't be able to.  
  
"Galadriel told me that you were coming, and that you were bringing a friend," came Aragorn's melodic, tenor voice. "Where is he? I would like to meet the man that is to be the savior of Middle-Earth."  
  
Daemon winced. ~Please, don't call me that. I'm afraid I'll only let you down.~  
  
Legolas turned to motion him forward, his eyes still glowing with a happiness Daemon hadn't experienced since the accident. "Daemon, I want you to meet Aragorn, my best friend and king of Gondor. Aragorn, this is the one Galadriel sent me to Earth to find. His name is Daemon Kincaid."  
  
With a broad smile on his face, Aragorn offered his hand. "It is indeed a pleasure to meet you," he said, gray eyes sparkling. "How are you liking Middle-Earth so far?"  
  
"It's nice," he answered politely. "Very different than anything I'm used to."  
  
The king laughed. "I would imagine so! I would very much like to speak with you later, to learn more about this world of yours. I understand that you are here to train, but that doesn't mean we can't have any fun."  
  
"I have already asked that same request of him," Legolas said. "I, too am curious about this place he once called home."  
  
Aragorn looked at the Elf in question then turned back to Daemon. "'Once'? Where is your home now?"  
  
"Here," Legolas answered. "In Middle-Earth. He is dead to those that he once knew."  
  
Aragorn nodded, then smiled again. "Then I welcome you home, Daemon Kincaid," he said with a bow. "And I hope that you will grace my city and castle with your presence often."  
  
The boy blushed. "Please. I am only Daemon. And I'm no great lord or anything. I'm not even sure what I'm doing here."  
  
"Well, you've come to the right place to learn. I believe our dinner will be served soon. Let's go fill your stomachs, for I am sure you are hungry. Then we shall sit down and answer all of your questions, and you can perhaps answer some of ours."  
  
"Sounds like a plan to me!" Legolas said cheerfully, linking one arm though Daemon's arm, and the other through Aragorn's.   
  
As he let the Elf lead him forward, Daemon felt a glow rise within him. And he realized that he, indeed, was home.  
  
--------------------  
  
"This is it!"  
  
Nineteen-year-old Morrigan Blackwood angrily pulled her guitar off over her head, sat it down in its holder, the stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.  
  
Twenty-one-year-old Quinn let out a soul-weary sigh as he hurried after her. "Morrigan? Morrigan, wait!"  
  
The girl stopped, but didn't turn around as he caught up with her. The drummer understood why when he saw the crystal tears that were raining down her cheeks. "Morrigan..."  
  
"It's not fair," she said in a broken voice. "He called them friends! If it weren't for him, they would never have gotten where they are now. Yet they sit in there and make fun of him. 'The one-handed musician.' How *dare* they speak of him like that! And in front of me!"  
  
Quinn sighed again as he put his arm around her shoulders. She didn't move, not even to lean into him. "Morrigan, I know people have been saying this to you quite a bit. And I know it's difficult for you. But Daemon has been dead for over a year now. You have to let him go."  
  
"I can't," she said miserably. "He was my best friend. He did so much for me. In the end, I was the only one who could save him. And I didn't. He's dead. Dead because of me. How am I supposed to forget that?"  
  
"It wasn't your fault," Quinn continued softly. "Daemon knew how much you cared for him. He would never blame it on you, and you know it. It was his choice to slam the car into a tree. Besides, you've said it yourself many a time. He's in a better place now." A smile touched his lips. "Probably walking around Heaven hand in hand with some cute guy angel, hand completely restored, learning how to play the harp or something. I know what happened was terrible, but there's no use mourning him. He wouldn't want you to give up your life---the life he wanted you to have---just because you feel guilty."  
  
The redhead buried her head in her hands as she began to sob. "It's not fair. I just wish that they would be more respectful, honor his memory. It seems like they only thing they care about is that they're about to become big time stars. They forgot that it was Daemon who put the band together, Daemon who wrote most of the songs, Daemon who contacted record company after record company."  
  
Quinn tightened his grip, and this time she leaned on him, head on his shoulder as he put his other arm around her. "Then it's up to us," he said firmly. "You and me. We'll keep his memory alive through our music. We'll make sure everyone knows that it was he who brought us to where we are. And, when he looks down on us, he'll smile and be happy."  
  
She looked up at him, eyes red. "You think so?" she whispered.  
  
He smiled. "I know so." Then, moving carefully, he took her by the chin and leaned down so that he could softly kiss her. "Now, let's get back in there and show those idiots who are the real musicians here."  
  
Returning his smile, Morrigan let him lead her back into the studio that Daemon's parents had built for him all those years ago. As their fingers became intertwined, Morrigan's engagement ring winked happily from her finger.  
  
------------------------------------------------------  
  
The castle was just as full as the town outside. Dwarves ran here and there, shouting, their hands filled with mugs of ale. Legolas whispered to Daemon that they were the Dwarves working on the restoration of the city, which caused him to frown.  
  
"How long has the war been over?" he asked.  
  
The Elf shrugged. "A few months. No more than ten, I'd wager. I've lost count."   
  
At the boy's surprised look, he smiled. "Ah. That's one thing I forgot to mention. Time here moves differently than on Earth. A day here could be a week back in your world, or a month, or a year. It always seems to shift. But it moves much slower here than on Earth."  
  
"So...A year could have passed already?"  
  
Legolas shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe it's only been a few months. Maybe more than a year. There's no way of telling."  
  
Daemon immediately sobered as he thought about Morrigan. ~I wonder if she even remembers me?~  
  
"Here, here!" called Aragorn from Legolas's other side. "I will have no long faces. We're about to partake of some of the finest dishes offered in Middle-Earth!"  
  
"You only say that because I didn't cook them," came a soft, melodic voice, and Daemon blinked in surprise and wonder as a dark-haired female Elf walked---~no, it's more like float~---towards them.  
  
Aragorn's face lit up even more, if that was possible. "There you are!" he said happily, letting go of Legolas so that he could hug the new arrival. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."  
  
He nodded to Daemon, whose arm was still trapped by Legolas's. "Arwen, this is Daemon Kincaid. He's the one Galadriel wrote us about. Daemon, this is Arwen, my wife."  
  
Daemon offered a bow. ~I always knew they were going to get married!~ It was a little difficult, since Legolas refused to let him go, but he still managed to look regal. "A pleasure indeed, my Lady."  
  
The Queen smiled as she dropped a curtsey. "A pleasure for me as well! I am glad to have made your acquaintance. I am sorry if I seem rude, but---"  
  
"But the introductions and questions can wait for later," Aragorn finished firmly. "For now, we eat!" 


	7. Save Me

Hey gang! Thanks again for all the kind reviews, and a double thanks fro being so patient in between my long pauses between chapters. But I now have a computer that I can get on the Net with in my dorm room (yay!) so I hope to speed things up a bit.  
  
Warnings: slash and mentions of suicide.  
  
Disclaimer: As always, they are not mine. If it's good, it's Tolkien. If it sucks, then it's mine. The title comes from the song 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath.  
  
-------------------  
  
Dreams in Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 7: Save Me  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
"Don't waste your touch. You won't feel anything. Or were you sent to save me?"  
'The Leaving Song Pt. II' AFI  
  
----------------------------------------------  
  
The Great Hall was full.  
  
Daemon had never seen so many people in one place in his entire life. Even at concerts, there hadn't been so many people. And they were all so different! Women in gowns so sheer it nearly made him blush, men in armor or finery such as he had never seen. He felt like he was Alice, stepping into Wonderland. Often he would stop and stare, prompting Legolas, who still had his arm looped through his, to tug him along.  
  
"You can watch them while we eat," the Elf said. "I myself am hungry, so I know that you must be starving! I've learned from experience that you humans like to eat quite often, thought not as much as hobbits."  
  
Daemon began to protest, but the growling of his stomach cut him off. Legolas grinned at him as he blushed fiercly.  
  
"Come. The cooks here are some of the best in Middle-Earth, and Arwen has a hand in helping prepare the food as well. We'll be eating until he can no longer move!"  
  
That sounded just fine to Daemon.  
  
Arwen laughed, a musical sound that was a real treat to the boy's ears. "You flatter me too much, Legolas," she said. "Hearing you and Aragron speak, you'd think that my food was the greatest ever!"  
  
"It is!" the two chorused.  
  
Daemon's stomach growled again, causing all three of his companions to laugh. He blushed and ducked his head. "I wasn't really hungry until you started talking about food," he said sheepishly.  
  
"Then have a seat," Aragorn said warmly, gesturing to a large wooden table in the middle of the hall. "I will go and inform the cooks that we have guests, and your food shall be here shortly."  
  
"Thank you," Legolas and Daemon chorused, then looked at each other with surprised looks.  
  
Aragorn's smile widenend. ~Looks like those two are going to be perfect for each other...~  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
Legolas let go of the human's arm as the two sat down next to each other at the table. While Daemon was glad his companion hadn't left him to run off with his friends, he couldn't deny the sense of loss he felt when the contact between them was broken.  
  
Arwen sat down across from them and turned her dark eyes on to Daemon. "So tell me, Daemon Kincaid. What do you think of our world so far?"  
  
"It's beautiful," he answered truthfully. "There is no way to compare it with my home."  
  
"Do you miss your home?"  
  
He shook his head so hard it hurt. "No! Not at all. Well, I have a very close friend I left behind. Her name is Morrigan. But, other than that, I do not miss it all. I hate it."  
  
The two Elves looked at him in shock at the emphasis with which he spoke. He didn't even see them. His eyes were on the table, feeling his hands clench into fists. His bandaged hand was throbbing, but he ignored it. ~Just let it go, Kincaid. It's over! You'll never have to go back there again.~  
  
"Well, we are certainly glad you are here," Arwen said softly with a smile, causing him to look up again. "You will save us!"  
  
His eyes fell again. ~I don't know if I can...~  
  
"What's this?" came Aragorn's deep voice. "Are you badgering our guest already? Arwen, I would have thought better of you!"  
  
The female Elf laughed. "I am sorry, dear. I couldn't contain my curiosity."  
  
"Well, it will have to wait. Our food is here!"  
  
Daemon's head snapped up at those words, and his mouth began to water as a plate of steaming food was sat before him. He looked to the human king for a confirming nod before attacking his food. His hungry stomach would stay quiet no longer.  
  
Which was why he never felt Legolas's concerned-filled eyes resting on him.  
  
---------------------------------  
  
Daemon felt as if he had gained sixty pounds in the past hour, but he couldn't repress a satisfied sigh as he leaned back in a chair in Aragorn and Arwen's private viewing chamber, one hand resting on his full stomach. "Arwen, I have to agree with the others. That was the best food I have ever eaten."  
  
The Queen blushed a little and put a hand to her mouth. "Thank you, Daemon. Your words are too kind."  
  
The human closed his eyes and leaned his head back. By God, was he tired! But Aragorn and the others wanted a chance to talk, to ask him question. He didn't feel like he was in any position to argue, seeing as how he was their guest. So he told set himself for the fact that he would have to stay awake just a little longer. Then he could go to sleep in one of those nice, big beds Legolas had been telling him about.  
  
They were all sitting in chairs placed around the monumental fireplace, one of the biggest Daemon had ever seen. Arwen and Aragorn sat close to each other, his hand always on hers. A long-stemmed pipe stuck out from his teeth, and a swirl of smoke rose up to encircle his head.  
  
Legolas was sitting in the chair to Daemon's left, legs curled up underneath him, leaning casually against the tall arm. If he hadn't been so drowsy form their trip and the food, Daemon's heart would have pounded a little harder and he would have found it *very* hard to keep a blush from rising in his cheeks. Legolas was certainly beautiful anyway he looked, but when he sat like *that*...  
  
"So tell us, Daemon." That was Aragorn, and the boy sat up a little straighter. "Tell us about your world. What was it like? How is different from ours? What didn't you like about it?"  
  
Daemon opened his eyes and sat up a little straighter. "It's...Well, it's dirty. There's a lot of smoke and smog and other things in the air. People cut down trees, leave their trash lying wherever, throw things in the ocean..."  
  
Legolas looked absolutely stricken at this news.  
  
"But there are some places that are just magickal. Like...watching the sun set over the ocean in California. Or seeing the northern lights in Alaska. The first snowfall in New York... It has it's good points.  
  
"We have machines to help us do all of our work. You can ask Legolas. He somehow managed to get into my car, which is what we use to get from one place to another. It's a modern horse, I'd guess you'd say."  
  
The male Elf nodded. "It was...very different. And they have these contraptions called air...air con..." He turned to Daemon with a puzzled frown. "What were they again? The things that could control how hot and cold you were?"  
  
Daemon was finding it very hard not to laugh. He'd never heard anyone struggle to say air conditioning before!  
  
Then again, he'd never left Earth.  
  
"It's called an air condiotioner. We use it to control the temperature in our buildings. That way, we're never too hot or too cold."  
  
The others gaped at him.  
  
Daemon found that he enjoyed telling stories, and launched into it with the ease of one who'd been doing it for years. He answered their questions smoothly, even when he had to think about it for a few minutes. But he always managed to steer clear of the subject of why he hated his home so much, and what had happenend to him.  
  
The others didn't seem to notice this, and just continued to fire question after question. He happily told them what they wanted to know, but found it increasingly harder to keep his eyes open. When the three turned to talk amongst themselves about the concept of elevators, he dropped off into sleep.  
  
Legolas, turning to say something to his companion, noticed this. With a smile, he raised his hand to silence the others. "I think we managed to wear him out," he said softly.  
  
Aragorn turned to see what his friend meant, then gave himself a slap on the forehead. "Some host I've turned out to be," he groaned. "I'll call someone right away to get him to bed."  
  
"Don't bother," Legolas said, uncurling his legs and getting to his feet, reminding the human king sharply of a cat. "I'll take care of him. You've put us in connecting rooms?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
The male Elf nodded. "Well, then I wish you both a good night and shall see you on the morrow."  
  
With that, he walked over to Daemon's chair, gently picked up the sleeping boy, and headed out the room and down the hall towards the rooms that Aragorn usually reserved for him.  
  
Aragorn and Arwen watched them go before turning knowing looks on each other. "How long do you give them?" Aragorn asked his wife.  
  
She shrugged. "A week? Surely by the time they leave."  
  
"I hope you're right." Aragorn looked after his friend, a thoughtful look on his face as he puffed on his pipe. "I sincerely hope you are right."  
  
-------------------------------  
  
Legolas made it to the rooms with no problems at all, and received no more than a curious glance from the people he passed in the hall. He managed to get Daemon into bed in a matter of minutes without ever waking him up.  
  
He carefully laid the human down and pulled off his shoes before pulling the blanket up to his chin. He knew he should leave, to get some sleep of his own. But he couldn't. Not just yet.  
  
Much to the Elf's own surprise, he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair away from Daemon's face. His finger traced its way down the human's cheek before stopping.  
  
Legolas reluctantly pulled his hand away as he studied Daemon's face. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep. All the lines, all the concern, the wall he'd built to hide behind...It was all gone. He looked so beautiful...  
  
Without taking his eyes away from the young human's face, he reached out to take his hand. Just as he had the day they met, his fingers traced the angry white scar that ran down the boy's wrist.  
  
~Why?~  
  
But that was a question for another day. Right now, Legolas needed to get some rest and let Daemon get his.  
  
"Idh mae, Daemon," he said softly, brushing one more strand of hair away. (1) "May your dreams be peaceful."  
  
With that, he climbed to his feet and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.  
  
(1) Idh mae-------------Rest well 


	8. In Your Soul

Well, here goes another chapter! I'm hoping the pace picks up a bit... Thanks for sticking with me!  
  
Warnings: Contains mentions of suicide and slash.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how hard a cry and beg.  
  
---------------------  
  
Dreams in Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 8: In Your Soul  
  
-------------------------  
  
"I'm the one in your soul reflecting the light."  
  
---"Serenity" Godsmack  
  
------------------------------------  
  
When Daemon next awoke, the sun was shinning brightly through a small window to his left, and he could hear the birds singing happily. A warm breeze was circling the room, and the smell of fresh flowers floated through the air.  
  
~Where am I?~  
  
That was the first thought that ran through the young man's mind. He remembered sitting in a drawing room with Legolas, Aragorn and Arwen. They had been talking when he had gotten sleepy. He had tried to stay awake, but his eyes wouldn't stay open. Then...  
  
What? What had happened after that? He couldn't remember. All he could think of was that he had fallen asleep, and someone had brought him into this room.  
  
A blush spread across his cheeks. ~Way to go, Kincaid. You're supposed to be the savior of their world, and you can't even stay awake long enough to hold a conversation.~  
  
His stomach let out a low growl, which led him to wonder what time it was. So, throwing aside the quilt that lay over him---~it's so soft and comfortable~---he got to his feet and stretched. A wince came across his face as every bone in his body seemed to crack and groan. But he couldn't deny that he felt better than he had in a long time.  
  
~Okay. I'm awake. Now what?~  
  
Looking down, he realized that his feet were bare. That sent him on a search for his shoes. Around on the floor, in the corner, and under the bed...  
  
Which is where he was when the knock came at the door. He tried to quickly scramble out, and only ended in succeeding to bang his head, causing him to curse loudly. "Come in!" he called, sitting on the floor and rubbing his head gingerly.  
  
The heavy door opened and a blond head poked in, causing Daemon to forget about his pain as his heart began to flutter. "Good morning!" Legolas sang cheerfully. "Did you sleep well? Why are you on the floor? I didn't wake you, did I?"  
  
Daemon climbed back to his feet, hoping he didn't look too disheveled. Almost unconsciously, he smoothed his jeans. "I slept wonderfully. I was looking for my shoes. And no, you didn't wake me up."  
  
"Your shoes are gone," the Elf told him. "Aragorn has sent for a pair of boots that you can wear. He's also sent off for some clothes you can wear. Yours are dirty, and these are in our style. I thought it might make you feel more comfortable."  
  
Daemon blinked at him. ~You took my shoes? Those were my Vans. Morrigan gave those to me!~  
  
Then the brief anger was gone. That life was over. The less he had to remind him of it, the better. As for Morrigan, he had the memories and the photograph that both he and she always carried with them. And that he would never give up.  
  
"So what am I supposed to do until then? Walk around barefoot?"  
  
Legolas gave him a grin. "If that bothers you, I can carry you. I carried you here last night. It would be no trouble."  
  
Daemon could only stare as his face began to heat up once more. ~*He's* the one who he brought me here last night? Oh boy. Talk about embarrassing!~  
  
"I guess I can walk around without my shoes," he murmured, hoping his face wasn't scarlet. "This stone kinda feels good anyways."  
  
"Good. Because morning meal has been prepared and the King and Queen request your presence. I am to be your escort." Legolas offered his arm. "Shall we?"  
  
Feeling as though his heart was in his throat, Daemon self-consciously smoothed his shirt and jeans one last time before linking his arm through the Elf's.  
  
-------------------------  
  
The palace looked decidedly different when lit by sunlight rather than by torchlight. No more did the winding corridors remind him of some medieval torture area, but as a cheery home. He was glad that he had Legolas with him. He would never have been able to find his way back to the Great Hall. He'd been too exhausted and too awed last night to pay attention to detail.  
  
Of course, he was just glad Legolas was there period. His whole body was tingling from the continuous contact he was sharing with the Elf, and he felt as if he were walking on air rather than stone.  
  
"I am sorry we kept you awake last night," the blond said apologetically. "I had no idea you were so tired. You should have told me. We didn't have to stay up talking last night. It could have waited!"  
  
Daemon gave him a warm smile. "It was all right. I didn't realize I was so tired, either. At least, not until I got fed and comfortable! I was really trying to stay awake and join in the conversation, but I just couldn't keep my eyes open."  
  
"You have nothing to apologize for. You were tired, and I should have noticed that. But I let Aragorn's excitement pull me in, and I agreed to stay up and ask you questions."  
  
Daemon's face started to burn, and it only got worse when his stomach let out another growl.  
  
Legolas laughed. "We'll get that hungry beast in you fed, and then I shall hand you over to Aragorn, who will get you clothed before beginning your training."  
  
A wave of panic swept over the human, and he clutched Legolas's arm a little harder. "You're going to be there, right?" he asked quickly, and then turned his head away in embarrassment.  
  
But Legolas didn't seem to be bothered by it. He simply gave a nod. "I shall be there for a while. I might even spar with you! But I have other things to tend to as well."  
  
"Of course." Daemon swallowed the lump in this throat and ignored the hollowness in his chest. ~What are you so upset over? You're not joined at the hip with him or anything. You knew he was going to have to leave you sometime after you got here. Aragorn seems like a nice guy. There's nothing to worry about!~  
  
He would just have to get over it. But it was oh so hard...  
  
-----------------------  
  
The Hall wasn't nearly as full as it had been the night before. Daemon suspected that it was rather late in the day, and many of the servants and palace workers had already taken their morning meal and were already at work. Those still lingering in the Hall were the nobility and guests of the King and Queen.  
  
"Well met!" Aragorn said warmly as his best friend and his guest approached. "I'm sorry we kept you up last night, Daemon. I trust that you slept well?"  
  
"Better than I have in a long time," he replied with an answering smile. He was consciously aware of the fact that his arm was still linked through Legolas's, and quickly pulled his away. "And I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I didn't mean to be rude. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I quit moving."  
  
Aragorn waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't apologize. There is nothing wrong with falling asleep when you're tired. I've fallen asleep quite a few times while in an important meeting. And I snore!"  
  
All three of them laughed at this, and Daemon felt a lot better. They all chatted amiably as they moved over towards one of the tables on the floor where Arwen was already seated. The young human told his two companions about his adventures of the morning, when he couldn't find his shoes and hit his head on the bed when Legolas knocked.  
  
"Have no fear," the king assured him. "Your shoes are ready, and clothes will be here by the end of the day. We can't have you sparring in bare feet. That wouldn't be good at all! Legolas would have to be carrying you again."  
  
This caused the Elf to laugh, while the human blushed. ~Your blush factor is awfully low, Kincaid. Better correct that, or else they'll think something is wrong with you!~  
  
He quietly cleared his throat and forced the warmth from his face. "I hope not. I didn't come here to be a burden."  
  
"Oh, you're far from a burden," Legolas quickly reassured him. "I've already told you once this morning. I like carrying you."  
  
Daemon could feel that heat seeping back into his face. He was very glad when they sat down for morning meal, and he sat by Legolas rather than facing him.  
  
"Good morning," Arwen said warmly, smiling at the two sitting across the table from her and her husband. "How are you this morning, Daemon?"  
  
"I'm just fine, milady," he answered formally.  
  
She laughed. "Please. You are a friend. We don't like formalities between friends. It's just Arwen."  
  
He nodded. "Of course." Then the food was placed in front of him, and his growling stomach reminded him of how long it had been since he had eaten. Without thinking, he attacked his food with gusto.  
  
Legolas shook his head as he watched his new friend. ~I don't see how humans can eat so much. Or hobbits. You think they would explode!~  
  
"While we are eating, I'm going to tell you the schedule for the day." Aragorn dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. "After morning meal, we will get you your shoes, and then began our sparring practice. Do you have any experience with swords at all?"  
  
Mouth full of food, all Daemon could do was shake his head. He had never picked up a sword in his life. He'd seen them in glass cases and on TV, but that was it.  
  
"That's fine. We'll start out with how to hold one and how to stand properly. We won't get into any actual fighting today. Is that okay?"  
  
"Works for me," Daemon said. "It's whatever you think is best. I have no clue about this kind of things. I was a musician. That's all."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "That will be our day's lesson, then." He turned his eyes to his best friend. "Will you be joining us, Legolas?"  
  
The Elf shook his head, causing Daemon's stomach to twist. "Not right now. I have some errands to run for both my father and Lady Galadriel. I might make it later in the day, but I make no promises. I will return by dinner tonight though." He turned to wink at Daemon, who looked stricken, and fondly tousled his hair. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. Aragorn's a very capable teacher."  
  
The boy managed a smile. ~But it won't be the same without you!~ "I look forward to getting started!"  
  
Aragorn clapped his hands in glee. "Wonderful! We'll begin as soon as we're done eating."  
  
Daemon went back to his food, but suddenly discovered that he wasn't quite as hungry. 


	9. You

Sorry it's been so long for those of you who have actually waited for this (ahem Tamara). I'm sorry things have been so slow. I hope things are about to pick up, so enjoy!  
  
Warnings: Contains mentions of suicide and slash.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine in the least bit. If that were so, I could buy all the Mercedes Lackey books I wanted!! Ylana is my character from my story "The Silent Prince" And, as always, the title comes from "Scream of the Butterfly" by Acid Bath.  
  
Dreams in Liquid Blue  
  
Chapter 9: You  
  
---------  
  
Is it you that I have been looking for  
  
---Course of Nature "Caught in the Sun"  
  
-------------------  
  
"No, no, no. This won't do at all. Too heavy. What about this one? No, it's too light. Damn! Are *these* what my soldiers practice with? No wonder they stay so lazy!"  
  
Daemon stood against a wall in a large room, listening in amusement at the crashes, curses and mumbles coming from inside a small room off to the side. Aragorn had disappeared in there moments earlier to find a suitable practice sword for his new charge.  
  
Apparently, he wasn't having any luck.  
  
"I can't believe what I'm seeing! I must speak to Ylana and Haldir about this. There are no.... Ah! Here we go. And it's perfectly balanced."  
  
With a few more clangs, Aragorn reappeared, looking happy but disheveled. In his hand he held a long, slender sword, which he held out to Daemon. "Here you go."  
  
The young human accepted it gingerly. "Are you sure about this, Aragorn? I mean, I'm pretty clumsy when it comes to sharp objects. I don't think I should be handling this."  
  
The King waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about a thing, my young friend. The edges have been dulled beyond belief. The cooks couldn't even use it to slice bread. It might leave a few bruises, but that would be it. No permanent damage."  
  
Daemon looked down at the sword and noticed that the hilt was only big enough to be held by one hand. This caused him to give his companion a warm smile. Aragorn knew that he couldn't grip anything with his left hand, and had made sure that he didn't have a sword that had to be gripped with two hands. *That* was probably what took him so long.  
  
He felt a flash of anger at the pity, but it was wiped out by the wave of warmth that swept over him. Back on Earth, no one would have paid him that kind of attention and consideration.  
  
So he hefted the sword and gave it a few experimental sings. Much to his relief, he didn't stumble and fall over. An even bigger surprise was the fact that it didn't seem to be too much of a difficult thing. It even felt kind of....natural.  
  
Aragorn had a grin stretched all the way across his face, as though he was kid getting a new toy. ~This boy has potential. The Fates weren't just grasping at straws when they picked him to be our Champion.~ "All right. Get a good feel for the sword, and then let me know. We're going to dive right in to your training. By the way. How are the clothes?"  
  
Daemon looked down at the clothes he was no wearing, and couldn't help but feel a little proud. He wore black trousers tucked into the tops of his brown boots that stopped at the middle of his calves. It was completed by a blue tunic that matched the color of his eyes.  
  
He had enough of an ego to say that he looked pretty good. And he truly felt that he fit in a little better now that he was dressed like the rest of the people on Middle-Earth. Now he just had to learn to fight like the rest of them...  
  
He swung the sword a few more times, getting used to the weight and balance of the weapon. Once he had gotten the hang of it, he let it fall to his side and offered Aragorn a nod.  
  
The older man clapped his hands in glee. "Oh, how I have missed training people! Haldir and Ylana---they are my two Captains of the Guard---won't let me help them any more. Say it's not kingly. But I love to do it. So you're going to have to excuse me if I seem too eager."  
  
Daemon had to laugh at his enthusiasm. "It's all right. I used to feel the same way when I was teaching my best friend how to play the guitar---ah, a kind of lute. Passing on knowledge of something I loved was a sheer joy. I hated having to stop."  
  
Aragorn had to shake his head. ~Such wisdom for one so young!~ "Well, there's something we have in common! Now, I am going to part my knowledge on you, and we are going to begin by how to stand properly. You ready?"  
  
"As I'll ever be."  
  
The King nodded and came forward. "All right then. I want you to put one foot slightly in front of the other, distribute your weight equally. There you go!"  
  
----------------------  
  
Legolas was out in the stables, talking soothingly to the horse he was planning on riding to Mirkwood. The mount gently brushed his nose against the Elf's cheek, causing him to laugh. He loved to be on the road, and the idea of riding into down the Road with the wind in his hair made him feel extremely happy.  
  
"My, but aren't we in a cheerful mood."  
  
Legolas still had a grin on his face as he turned to face the speaker. He recognized that voice, and welcomed the chance to talk to them. "You always manage to put me into a cheerful mood, Ylana. You just have that kind of personality."  
  
The dark haired female Elf laughed at this. "Why thank you, Legolas! I know I can always count on you to boost my ego just a little bit more."  
  
"I speak only the truth." He looked around for another male Elf that was usually not far from Ylana's side, one with silver hair. "Where's Haldir? I don't think I've seen you two more than a few feet apart in years."  
  
"The soldiers were getting a bit too comfortable. When that happens, I always hand them over to Haldir for a few days. If that doesn't get them into shape, nothing will."  
  
Now it was Legolas's turn to laugh. He knew that his friend spoke the truth.  
  
Ylana and Haldir, besides being lovers, shared the duty of acting as Captain of the Guard for Aragorn. It was usually Haldir who handled the more personal things and Ylana who oversaw the training sessions. This was fine with the soldiers, for they knew that Haldir was a tough taskmaster. Whenever Ylana became bored, or thought that her men were getting too lazy or comfortable, she let Haldir have them for a few days. They even came out as stronger warriors, or they left.  
  
"I'm sure your men will love that."  
  
"Today shouldn't be too bad. I believe he is taking them to watch Aragorn teach your new friend how to spar."  
  
Legolas cast his eyes to the ground, feeling a twinge of guilt come over him. The horse must have sensed his mood change, for it gently nudged him. "I should be there. I promised him that I would be there for a little while. But it's so hard to be around him! No that I don't *want* to be around him, but he radiates pain and anger and I just want to... But I can't. You know that. It's too soon."  
  
"Legolas, I didn't ask for an explanation. I know you, know what you've been through." Here her voice got soft. "But what are you going to tell him? What is Aragorn going to tell him when he asks why you've been avoiding him? When he wonders why you suddenly don't want to talk to him any more? I haven't met this Daemon Kincaid yet, but from what Arwen was telling me this morning, he is a fragile soul. He needs friends, and you're just going to break him if you do that."  
  
"Don't you think I know that?" Legolas growled. His face had been falling ever since Ylana had begun to speak, and the happy feeling he had had just moments earlier was gone. The horse whickered softly. "I don't want to put him through that. The Valar knows I don't. But I don't want to torture myself, either." He let out a weary sigh. "I just don't know what to do."  
  
"Well, I don't think you should give up before you try," said Ylana in her usual frank tone of voice. "Don't stay away from him because you *think* that's what will happen. Both of you need close friends right now, and, from what I understand, Lady Galadriel picked you to go and find him because the two of you share a close bond."  
  
"Perhaps." Legolas tugged at his arm bracers in an unconscious manner. "I thank you for your advice as always, Ylana. And I promise that I will take it to heart. But, for now, I must be off. My father is expecting me the day after tomorrow, and I do not want to be hard pressed."  
  
"Of course. Forgive me for delaying you." Ylana took a step back and offered him a formal bow, placing a hand over her heart before extending it out towards him. "May you go with the grace of the Valar, and may the sun shine on our next meeting."  
  
"And the same to you." Legolas swiftly leapt onto the back of the horse--- Elves needed no saddles---and, after speaking a quiet word into his mount's ear, shot out of the stables.  
  
Ylana, watching him go, let out a weary sigh. "I hope you will change your mind, my friend," she softly. "Both for his sake...and yours."  
  
---------------------  
  
"Two, four, five. Very good! I believe you are beginning to get the hang of it."  
  
Daemon was absolutely exhausted. That was all he could think of right now. His body was covered in sweat, and the fingers of his right hand were bloodied from all the hits he had taken from Aragorn's sword. Oh, it was dull as well, but the King hit hard enough to break skin anyways. And he had no idea how he was still gripping the sword. He seriously doubted that he would be able to move his fingers from that curled position for the next few days.  
  
It also didn't help that they had an audience. A very tall, very slender Elf with silver hair had come in with about twenty young men that Daemon took to be the soldiers of Gondor. Aragorn had simply grinned and went on with the session.  
  
Daemon was not happy with this turn of events. It wasn't that he had stage fright. He had thrived in the spotlight when he played with the band. He had been good at what he did, and he loved to share with other people. Here, he had no idea what was going on, and he had a feeling that his audience did. When he let in a hit that he knew he should've been able to easily block and the snatches of whispers reached his ears, he could feel his face growing hot with shame.  
  
~What did they expect? Sir Lancelot in full armor riding on a white charger? I'm a musician, dammit, not a swordsman!~  
  
He was *not* having a good day. First, Legolas leaves him alone with people he barely knew, now Aragorn was doing his best to humiliate him. If this is what he had to go through to be a hero, he'd have much rather died in that car rather than agree to come here. ~They're no different than the people back home.~  
  
Feeling his anger building up to a boiling point, he attacked Aragorn with a vicious swing. It was sloppy, but it still caused the King to grunt as he raised his own sword to block it.  
  
"Good!" he said in a pleased tone. "I was wondering when you were going to attack. You can't win a battle just by blocking. You've got to fight back, you know."  
  
Daemon growled. "I'm not a fighter," he shot back. "I have never touched one of these things in my life. You knew that before we started. So don't critique my fighting skills just yet."  
  
A wicked grin spread across the older man's face. "You're beginning to get angry. This is good. Maybe now you'll give me an opponent worth fighting! I don't think we---"  
  
He was cut off as Daemon swung at him again. He managed to block it, but had to scramble backwards as the young man swung again. Daemon kept up the charge, barely giving Aragorn time to get his sword up between them. The whispers of the young men became murmurs, but they no longer sounded like scorn.  
  
Daemon could feel his arms beginning to shake from the strain, but his adrenaline kept him going. "I am *sick* of people treating me like shit and leaving me when they think they have no more use for me!" he shouted. "I'm not a tool, you know. Just because I'm not like everyone else doesn't mean I don't feel."  
  
"Who said you didn't?" Aragorn asked as he blocked yet another wild swing. "I don't remember anyone even hinting at that."  
  
"Then why did Legolas leave? He was so nice to me. I thought he was my friend. But he left me just like everyone else. He's nothing but a fake."  
  
"Don't you *dare* say that!" Aragorn pushed him away and stared at him, chest heaving. "You have no idea what he's been through. It was hard enough for him just to be around you."  
  
This caused Daemon to frown. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Forget it," the King replied. "That's enough for today. We'll do this again tomorrow." The King turned to face the Elf that had stood silent during the entire exchange. "Thank you for coming, Haldir. I'm sure your men enjoyed the break. You can return to your duties now."  
  
The Elf---who Daemon guessed was Haldir---bowed and walked out of the room. With much groaning and complaining, the young men followed him.  
  
Aragorn turned to put his practice blade back up. Daemon trotted after him. "What did you mean?" he demanded. "About Legolas having a hard time being around me?"  
  
"I told you to forget it," his host replied coolly. "It is not my place to say it. I never should have mentioned it in the first place. But he is my best friend, and I will not tolerate anyone running him into the ground like that."  
  
"If it bothers him so much, why did they send him to get me? And why has he been so nice to me just to do this? If this was going to be the case, I would rather have never met him at all."  
  
Aragorn spun around to face Daemon, and the younger man had no trouble identifying the anguished look within the King's eyes. He used to see that look in Morrigan's eyes when he tried to kill himself. "I will say this, and this only. So it will have to satisfy your curiosity unless he chooses to tell you himself. You and Legolas have much more in common than you can imagine. Now, let's put your blade away. Dinner should be ready soon."  
  
Daemon's curiosity was piqued, but he knew that he would get nothing more out of his companion. So he handed the sword to him, and then silently followed him out of the room. 


	10. Sorrow

Hi again! Sorry again for the delay, but I had finals, then I had to move back home unfortunately. I don't know if I can survive a summer with my parents.

I hate to be a hawker, but you have got to see Troy! And not just because my future husband coughORLANDOcough is in it, but because this is such an intense movie. And bring lots of tissues. I never cry in movies, and this one had me in tears. It's just absolutely awesome.

And for those of you who asked, Ylana is the same person from 'The Silent Prince.' Same background and whatnot. This is just a different time and storyline. I was too lazy to make up a new character, so I just stuck her in there. Hope no one minds!

Warnings: Slash and mentions of suicide. If it bothers you, then I doubt you've made it this far into the story.

Disclaimer: They ain't mine!! I'm sorry if you thought they were, Mr. Lawyer. I'm just a broke college student. They belong to Tolkien. And the name of the story comes from 'Scream of the Butterfly' by Acid Bath.

Dreams in Liquid Blue

Chapter 10: Sorrow

"Help me please burn the sorrow from your eyes."

--------Hole 'Malibu'

Daemon followed Aragorn back to the dinning Hall, hands stuffed into his pockets, wondering if it would be possible for him to bolt and run away. The castle was huge. Surely they wouldn't be able to find him. He could sneak down, find the stables and ride away. He knew how to ride. He had taken lessons when he was younger. He didn't care where he went, as long as it was away from these people. Away from the ones who wanted to make him something he was not, make him a hero, a savior.

Away from _him_.

Just thinking about Legolas made the young human's blood boil. He hadn't expected the beautiful Elf to fall in love with him the way he had somehow fallen in love with Legolas, but he had thought that they had at least become friends. The Elf had even promised to come with Daemon on his first sparring match. Then he had taken off, saying only that he had to run some errands. No apologies, no explanations, no telling when he would be back. He just up and left.

_He doesn't want to be around me_, Daemon thought angrily. _Just like everyone else I've known. I'm just the freak, the kid that makes everyone feel uncomfortable. And here I was thinking that he would be different. Guess he proved me wrong._

He realized just then how much he missed Morrigan. She was the only person who had treated him like a human since the accident. He couldn't stand feeling the way he did, knowing that someone he had thought he could trust had abandoned him. He would have preferred death over this!

As he stepped into the Hall, he noticed Arwen standing off to the side, talking to someone who had their back turned to the king and young man. Daemon guessed it was a female, though he had come to realize that it was difficult to tell with Elves. She had long black hair that was twisted back to stay out of her face. She wore a long green dress, and had a sword at her hip as well as a bow and quiver on her back.

Arwen caught sight of the two and, with a smile, said something softly to her companion. She turned around, and Daemon found himself staring into the brightest pair of silver eyes that he had ever seen.

It was indeed a female, and Daemon found that he was reminded sharply of a cat as he noticed the way she stood and held herself. He had a feeling that it would not be a good idea to mess with this woman.

A smile crossed her face as she studied the young human. "So _this_ is the famous Daemon Kincaid I've been hearing about." She offered him a bow. "It is pleasure to finally meet you. I am Ylana."

Aragorn chuckled. "Ah. So this is where you've been hiding out while Haldir is training your soldiers. He brought them to watch while young Daemon and I sparred earlier."

Her grin widened. "Oh, I think they needed a good pick-me-up. And it's been a while since I spent any time with Arwen. So I thought I'd hand them over to him for a few days. And he told me that he was taking them to watch you. He should be coming to dinner in a few moments, and then he's taking them through some physical exercises. I'm sure they're just quivering with excitement."

Daemon gawked as he stared at her. _This_ was the other Captain of the Guard? Haldir, the one whom had been in the training room, seemed to be a typical warrior, quiet and emotionless. But this girl seemed to be more of the type that you could be best friends with. If it hadn't been for the way she carried herself, he never would have guessed that she was a hardened warrior.

She turned a warm smile onto the young human. "I have heard good things about you, Daemon. Arwen stayed up late last night spouting your praises, and Legolas spoke of you in a very respectful manner."

Daemon's face immediately turned to a scowl. "I'll bet he did," he muttered, then flushed, realizing he was standing amongst some of the Elf's best friends.

But no one seemed to notice. Or, if they did, they didn't say anything.

"Well, I know you've probably been asked this a million times since you arrived yesterday, but I would be delighted if you would join me and tell me of your world. We don't have to discuss anything that you do not wish to, but I must admit that my curiosity has gotten the better of me."

Without even thinking, Daemon nodded. "I would love to," he admitted, then blinked as he realized what he had just said. For some reason, the idea of talking to this light-hearted female Elf didn't bother him as much as it had been when Aragorn had asked to speak with him.

She positively beamed. "Thank you very much!" She offered her arm and lifted an eyebrow. "Shall we?"

Linking his arm through hers---_she reminds me so much of Morrigan!---_he let her lead him to a table. Aragorn and Arwen exchanged smiles, took each others hand, and then followed.

* * *

Legolas couldn't deny the feeling of happiness he got as he crossed the boarders of his home. It had been so long since he had been here, and he looked forward to seeing his family and friends again. Especially his father.

But he couldn't deny the twinge of guilt he felt as thought about Daemon. He wondered what the young human was doing right about now, wondered how the sparring match with Aragorn had gone. He wondered what Daemon's feelings had been when Legolas told him he wasn't going to be at the sparring match like he had promised. He only hoped that, one day, he would be able to explain to Daemon why he had left, and hoped that the young human would understand.

Legolas liked him. He really did. Maybe he liked Daemon more than he should. But being around him, having those feelings brought back to the surface again…It was difficult. He wanted to be able to be around Daemon, to let him know that he was not alone in this world. But not yet. Not for awhile.

The trees rattled as he rode past them on his horse, speeding towards his father's palace. They were happy. Their prince had come home!

Legolas only wished he could stay longer. He wanted to be able to sit and have long talks with his father, just like he used to. He wanted to challenge some of his childhood friends to archery matches. He wanted to be able to wander the woods, maybe even go and hunt some of the famed Mirkwood spiders. But he knew that was out of the question. He had other things to do before returning to Gondor. Galadriel had challenged him to take care of Daemon, to prepare him for the tasks that lay ahead of him. He had accepted that challenge and he would stick with it, no matter how much it bothered him. So he would stay for a bit, visit with his father, get his business taken care of and return to Minas Tirith.

So he continued on, trying to think of nothing but spending time with his loved ones. _I'm going to enjoy it while I have the chance._

* * *

Daemon was absolutely in love with Ylana.

Well, okay. Maybe not in _love. _But he was completely enchanted by her. In the few moments that they had spent together, talking and eating, she had won him over. He just talked, and she sat and listened. When he found himself wandering into territory he didn't like, he would often fall silent. Instead of simply sitting there in uncomfortable silence, Ylana would begin to tell stories of her own, giving him time to reassemble his thoughts and learn a little about Middle-Earth in the meantime. She wisely steered clear of any mention of Legolas, and he didn't ask.

He was currently sitting at the table, dinner forgotten, staring at her with wide eyes as she narrated the exploits of the Last Alliance, of how they defeated Sauron and cut the Ring of Power from his hand.

"And then Elendil, the greatest of the Kings of Men---excluding Aragorn, of course---rushed forward, all alone, to take on Sauron. Unfortunately, he was no match for the Maia and was killed almost instantly, smashed into a cliff by Saroun's mace. Isildur, his son, stood there and watched as---Oh!"

Daemon blinked as she stopped her story and her eyes went wide as a smile crossed her face. Turning, he followed her eyes to see the same silver-haired Elf he'd seen in the training room earlier---Haldir---walk into the Hall. He moved with the same cat-like grace Daemon had noted in Ylana, and still wore that emotionless look upon his face.

At least, until his eyes fell upon Ylana. Then a wide smile crossed his face, and the human was struck by how much younger the male Elf suddenly appeared.

"Ylana, you need to work with your troops more. They are some of the laziest Men that I have ever seen!"

She laughed at this, and it seemed as though the Hall echoed with a liquid music. "That is why I hand them over to you every once in awhile. After spending a few days with you, they know that they had better get into shape quick." She stood up to accept a kiss from her lover.

Daemon turned back to his dinner, expecting Ylana to forget all about him now that Haldir was here. But, much to his surprise, she was facing him once more when she sat back down. "Now, where was I? Oh! As I was saying, Isildur could do nothing but watch as Sauron killed his father. When he saw this------"

* * *

All of Mirkwood seemed to be rejoicing the return of their prince, even if it was only going to be for a day or two. His father had welcomed him with open arms and offers of a feast for that night. Legolas had declined, saying that he wanted nothing but to sit and talk. Then he would have to rest before starting out again the next day. That had been fine with Thranduil, and the two had immediately retreated to the king's chambers with strict instructions to the guards that they were not to be disturbed.

Once they were settled down, Thranduil eagerly leaned forward with a sparkle in his eyes. "So tell me about the mission Lady Galadriel has sent you on. How goes it?"

Legolas offered him a weak smile. _I had a feeling he was going to ask me that. _"It's…. interesting. I went and found the boy. His name is Daemon Kincaid, and he is a broken spirit. When I found him, he was trying to end his life. I don't know what happened to him. He won't talk about it to anyone. But it's nearly destroyed him."

"It sounds as though the two of you have quite a bit in common," the king said in a quiet voice, one eyebrow lifted in his son's direction.

"Yes. And I suppose that is why it was me Galadriel sent to find him. But now I wish she hadn't, for I fear it's headed for disaster."

"Why do you say that?"

Legolas sighed and absently tugged on his arm bracers. This did not go unnoticed by Thranduil, and a small frown appeared on his face.

"From the first moment I saw him, Daemon stole my breath away. He makes me feel the way Melin once did, and it frightens me. It's so hard to ignore those feelings, but I can't help remember what happened last time I gave my heart away. Every time I'm around him…It's like torture, Ada. And I don't want to hurt any more."

"Oh, Legolas." The King of Mirkwood reached out and took his son's hands in his own. "Listen to me. I know you may not like what I'm about to tell you, but I want you to listen to me, okay? Have you even considered the possibility of telling this Daemon of how you feel?"

Legolas violently shook his head, sending his blond hair flying in all directions. "Absolutely not! How could I? How could you even think of asking me that?"

This time, it was Thranduil who smiled. "Not everyone is like Melin, Legolas. I know you were hurt, and I don't blame you for being afraid. But remember that, if we loved, lost and never loved again…Well, there would be a lot less elflings running about." He was rewarded to see a slight smile flicker across the prince's face. "I am your father, Legolas. And as such, I would see the sorrow wiped from your eyes. I don't know if this Daemon can do that. Only you can be the judge of that. But you will never know until you try. Am I right?"

This time, the younger Elf's smile was much wider. "You're always right, Ada."

The king beamed. "That's what I like to hear! Now, will you promise me to think about it?"

"I promise."

"Good! Now, having that over with, I want to hear all of your latest news."


	11. My December

Thanks for the reviews! Sorry about that last chapter. I know it kinda sucked. But I'm really hoping to start picking up the pace of the story, so maybe it'll get better!! Please keep reviewing and telling me if you liked it----or if you thought it was the most terrible piece of writing you've ever encountered. Thanks again!

Warnings: Same as they have been the past ten chapters: mentions of suicide and slash.

Disclaimer: Yep. Still don't belong to me. Kudos goes to Acid Bath and their 'Scream of the Butterfly', which is where the title of this little ditty came from.

Dreams is Liquid Blue

Chapter 11: My December

* * *

"This is my December, this is me alone."

------------"My December" Linkin Park

* * *

Daemon was utterly exhausted by the time he tumbled into bed late that night. _Or is it morning? _And he had every right to be. His muscles ached in places he didn't even know he _had _muscles from his sparring with Aragorn. Then, after dinner, he had stayed up with wide-eyed interest as he listened to Ylana weave tales of Middle-Earth's glory days. She had stopped at one point and, in a concerned voice, asked if he wanted to go to bed. He stubbornly shook his head, fighting back a yawn as he insisted that he was _not _tired. Ylana shrugged, and then went on.

When she had finished---and it was obvious that the poor human couldn't keep his eyes open much longer---Aragorn had voiced the idea that had been forming in his head all afternoon.

"Ylana, how would you like to be his teacher?"

Every head in the room swiveled to him at this statement. A chorus of 'Whats?' sounded from everyone.

The king chuckled at this and held up a hand. "Hear me out. Galadriel has sent him here to learn swordplay. Afterwards, he will return to Lothlorien for magickal learnings. But he knows nothing of the history of this place, and it is to become his home as well. So why don't you teach him? That is, if it's all right with him _and _you. Daemon?"

The young man needed no encouragement. He was already bobbing his head in agreement before Aragorn had finished speaking.

"All right. We have one in agreement. What say you, mellon-nin?" (1)

Ylana had turned to her lover, and pleading look in her eyes. "Would that be all right with you, Haldir? I know that you will have to take over a large portion of the training, but I promise to help wherever I can. Please?"

He let out a sigh, but the others could see that he was having a difficult time hiding a smile. "I suppose it would be all right. It would at least give me some time to whip those lazy soldiers of yours into shape!"

"Oh, hanna le!" she had said happily, throwing her arms around him and kissing him firmly, causing the others to laugh. (2)

"So it's decided, then," Aragorn said with a twinkle in his eyes. "We shall all meet here in the morn to break our fast. After that, Daemon will spend the time until lunch under the tutelage of Ylana. Then we shall meet back here for noon meal, and I will then have our young friend until dinner. Does that sound all right?"

No one had argued.

Now, as Daemon fell onto his soft bed, a smile found its way across his face.

Exhausted? Yes. Happy? Most definitely.

_This place is starting to feel like home, _he thought, marveling at the fact that, just a few hours ago, he was wanting to get as far away from here as he could. _No one is whispering to each other when I walk by, and no one is trying to avoid me. They all seem to actually like me._

_Well, except for Legolas._

Immediately, a black cloud swept over the young man's thoughts. In all of the excitement of the evening---meeting Ylana and learning that she was to be his teacher---he had forgotten all about the male Elf that confused him so. But now, as he remembered what had happened, a scowl replaced the smile on his face.

_Wonder when he's going to come back and get me? Wonder if he's going to be nice and apologize, or if he's going to act like he never broke his promise? Wonder if he'll even _talk _to me?_

_You wonder too much, _scolded another voice. _You think you're tired _now. _It's only going to get worse, and you're going to be _really _sore come morning. You might want to get some sleep before you have to face another training session. And something tells me that Ylana won't take too kindly to you falling asleep on her._

This caused him to chuckle. _No, I don't think she would._

So, after firmly telling his brain to shut up and leave him alone, Daemon turned on to his side, closed his eyes, and dropped off into an exhausted---but contented---sleep.

* * *

Over in Mirkwood, however, Legolas was not having such luck. He was tired, yes. Who _wouldn't _be after all the hard riding he'd done? But he kept replaying the conversation he'd had with his father over and over in his mind, and it kept him awake long into the night.

He knew that Thranduil only wanted what was best for him, and that he was probably right in saying that he shouldn't shelter his heart for the rest of his life. But what Thranduil _didn't _understand was how painful just the thought of baring his heart and soul to another person was. Melin hadn't just hurt him, he'd _shattered _him. His heart, his soul, his trust…Nearly his whole life. If it hadn't been for Aragorn, coming on a surprise visit and finding him out by the pool…Well, he wouldn't have had to worry about anything else ever again.

_Daemon has lost nearly as much as you have, _whispered that little voice in the back of his head that always seemed to meddle in his affairs. _If he hadn't, he wouldn't be hurting as much as he is. He _needs _you. You know what it's like, so you can help him. And, perhaps, help yourself as well. _

Legolas sighed as he turned over onto his stomach, resting his chin on his pillow and staring out into the darkness. _I know I should, and I _want _to help him. It's just…I'm so afraid. It's still so fresh, so close to the surface. I don't know if I can bring those feelings back up and live through them. Especially if he turns out to be like Melian._

That voice laughed, and the Elf could feel his cheeks reddening at the thought of how absurd that sounded. _Please. Now you're acting like some little coward who wants out of even trying. He's _nothing _like Melian. Anyone with half a brain could tell you that. You have no excuse not to try, at least to talk to him. If your feelings grow, then you can get all fluttery. But, right now, he needs a kindred spirit. And so do you. _

The voice was right. As much as Legolas wished it wasn't, it was. And he could think of no argument that wouldn't sound completely lame even to him.

_Fine, _he thought in resignation. _When I get back to Minas Tirith, I'll talk to him. Bu that's _all _I'm going to do._

_At least for now, _came the cheery reply. Then that annoying little voice went silent, and the young prince discovered just how really tired he was.

He was asleep in moments.

* * *

He dreamed that night. This was surprising, considering he hadn't dreamt much since the accident. The only dreams he could actually remember having had been dark ones, reflecting his waking life. He could remember being alone, alone and cold. And those dreams had always been in black and grey, devoid on any color at all. But _this _one…This was different. He wasn't alone. There were people there, talking to him and laughing with him. And oh! The colors! Purples, silvers, yellow…And blue. There seemed to be blue everywhere, the same color of blue as a certain Elf's eyes…

When Daemon next awoke, he couldn't remember much of the dream, only that it had been a pleasant one. And that certain shade of blue…

He let out a yawn as he began to stretch….Then winced as every bone in his body let out a loud _pop _ in protest of being pulled apart. His mind hadn't been kidding last night. He _hurt. _His whole body was stiff, and he had a feeling it was going to take him quite a few minutes to drag himself out of the bed and get down the corridor to the Great Hall. He didn't even want to _think _about sparring with Aragorn that afternoon. He had a feeling that would make him ache all the more.

Moving slowly and sucking in a breath every time another part of his body launched a protest---often a painful one for him---he managed to get to a standing position and reach for his clothes which had been washed and folded neatly at the foot of his bed. Putting those on took him another few agonizing moments. After that, he wasn't sure if he had enough energy to make it to the Great Hall.

But the growl that came from his stomach gave him all the incentive he needed.

Daemon felt quite like he imagined a duck did as he made his way down the hallway, waddling more than walking as his right knee didn't seem to want to bend in the proper way. He knew that he must pose an amusing sight, and was quite ready to be greeted with laughter once he encountered people.

But, to his surprise, no one seemed to mark his odd walk s he stepped into the Great Hall. A smile lit on everyone's face, and Ylana quickly scooted closer to Haldir so Daemon could have room to sit down. This didn't seem to bother the male Elf, who dropped an arm around him lover's waist and pulled her even closer.

"Fair morning to you!" Aragorn said from across the table as the young human gently eased himself down onto the bench next to his teacher. "I take it you slept well last night?" The twinkle in his grey eyes told Daemon that the king new _exactly _how the young man was feeling.

"_Quite _well," Daemon assured him. "Though I have a feeling it did more harm then good." As if to prove his point, his shoulder popped as he reached out to accept the biscuit Arwen was offering him.

His friends---_yes, I have friends! ---_around the table laughed at this, causing him to flush a little.

"Don't worry about it," Ylana said, carefully patting him on the back. "The _worst _thing you can do is simply lie around and hope it goes away. If you get up and work for a bit, it'll go away. I know it sounds crazy, but it really works."

"That's good to know," Daemon replied, biting into the warm, fluffy biscuit. Immediately, his stomach quieted a bit. "I don't think I'd be much good as sore and stiff as I am right now. I didn't think I'd be able to walk down here."

"Just don't fall asleep on me this morning," she warned in a firm tone. Next to her, Haldir chuckled and murmured something about Ylana and someone's eyelids being stuck together.

"I promise," he said in all earnest, then had to stop talking as his breakfast was placed in front of him. His stomach quickly took over, and the others watched in amusement as he shoveled everything he possibly could into his mouth.

The talk soon turned to idle chatter. Haldir told them of his plans for the soldiers for that day and, if the glitter in his blue eyes was anything to judge by, Daemon was _very _glad he was not training under the male Elf. Arwen talked about getting the western portion of the castle cleaned. Aragorn agreed with her, and then began to speak of the diplomatic envoy from one of the outlying kingdoms that would be visiting soon. Perhaps they should decorate the western wing in the fashion of their country. Arwen thought that was a splendid idea, and Ylana promised to help her friend make anything that would be needed. Not one word was said of Legolas, for which Daemon was grateful.

Breakfast was soon over, and everyone drifted off to his or her appointed chore. After sharing a kiss with his lover, Haldir left to round up his soldiers and begin their training. Arwen started for the western part with a bevy of servants carrying cleaning supplies in tow. Aragorn headed off to his study after reminding Daemon that they would again be sparring after lunch, and reminding Ylana not to make him late. This caused the female Elf to stick out her tongue in protest. They all laughed.

Soon, Daemon and Ylana were the only two left. She turned to her new student with a smile and sparkling silver eyes. "So!" she said in a cheery tone of voice. "Looks like it's just you and me now. I suppose we should get started. First, thought, where would you like to go? There's a little spot in the palace gardens that's kind of hidden away, and it's a beautiful day outside. Or there's the library. Or we could walk around the city….It's up to you."

Daemon thought about it for a moment. He _would _like to go and see the city, but the idea of being around so many people did not sit well with him at all. And he didn't want to stay cooped up inside. He had seen the sun shinning through the windows, and the breeze that floated through the castle was heavy with the smell of flowers.

"Could we go to the gardens?" he asked shyly. "I would like to go outside."

Ylana laughed. "All right then. The gardens it is!"

* * *

The days came and went. Every morning, Daemon would spend the period between breakfast and lunch with Ylana, learning about this land that had become his adopted homeland. She was a strict teacher, asking his questions about everything she taught him. But he was an attentive student, and was able to answer all but the most difficult of her questions. This pleased the Elf greatly, and she would reward him with a story of her own childhood or anything else he asked. Everything, that is, except for Legolas. He was beginning to realize that the subject of the blond Elf was a touchy one with all of them.

He spent his afternoons in the training room with Aragorn, learning the way of the sword. Much to his surprise and Aragorn's delight, he quickly picked up on the fighting technique he was being shown. After a day or two, he was beginning to anticipate Aragorn's moves and dodge them accordingly. He even managed to score a bit on the King one day, and he had cut the lesson short and pulled out a bottle of wine at dinner in celebration. And, as promised, he no longer hurt quite as much when he woke in the morning. He had almost forgotten about Legolas and how angry he was at the Elf.

Almost.

He had been under Aragorn's teaching for a week now. When Aragorn had declared the day's lesson complete, Daemon had asked to stay in the training room a bit longer. He wanted to work on the new attack he had been taught. There was something about it that wasn't quite right, and the young human wanted to see if he couldn't work a bit longer to figure out what it was. With a grin, Aragorn had consented, promising that they would save some dinner for him whenever he was through. Then he had left the young man and made his way to the Great Hall.

Which is where he found Legolas, sitting and talking amiably with Ylana. He looked up when Aragorn entered the room, and a smile found its way across his face. "Hello, Estel."

"It's about time you got back!" The human went forward to sweep his friend up in a tight embrace. "I was beginning to think you'd decided to stay at home for the next few years."

"The offer was tempting, but I know better than to shirk my duty." He looked behind Aragorn, and his smile faded a bit. "Where's Daemon?"

"Still in the training room, practicing. He's going to be quite a fighter, that one is. Especially to only be one-handed!" He paused and looked Legolas strait in the eye. "I must warn you that he is none to happy with you at the moment."

Legolas let out a quiet chuckle. "That's an understatement if I ever heard one. He's probably furious with me, and I don't blame him one bit. But I have to go and talk to him, so if you will excuse me…"

"Of course." With a little bow, Aragorn stepped out of the way. His best friend returned the gesture, and then headed off towards the training room.

As the human king watched him leave, Ylana came to stand by his side. He didn't have to look at her to know that the same grin that was on his face was on hers as well.

_Yes, _he thought happily. _I have a feeling that everything is going to be quite all right._

* * *

Legolas's heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it would break his ribs, he kept having to wipe his palms on his leggings to get the sweat off, and he was having a hard enough time breathing that he could sympathize with a fish that was out of water.

_Don't be so nervous, _he told himself firmly. _You're just going to talk to him, that's all. Apologize maybe, but that's it. He's a normal person, not some monster._

_Except that he has a sword, and is currently angry enough to probably kill me---or try to---without a second thought._

After that thought, he had every right to be nervous.

He slowly walked down the stairs that led into the large room where many of Gondor's soldiers had been sparred at one time or another. Legolas had seen this place so full of bodies that it was impossible to move.

Right now, though, it contained only one, single occupant. And it was he who now held the Elf's full attention as he stepped into the room.

Daemon sliced the sword through the air in the maneuver that Aragorn had taught him only hours earlier, moving back and forth as he tried different stances. When one didn't suit him, he would shake his head, mumble, then try another. After a few moments of watching this, Legolas could easily see what Aragorn had been talking about earlier. Daemon was still fumbling at bit, and some of his slashes were awkward, but the Elf could see the hidden grace within the boy's movements. And every time he moved, he realized his mistake and quickly corrected it.

Legolas's heart was still pounding, but he realized it was for a completely different reason.

_He's beautiful, _he couldn't help but think as he watched Daemon's lithe body turn and twist, and his white-blond hair sticking to his scalp. The feeling was not entirely unwanted, but he could feel the same fears he had voice to his father surfacing.

_Just talk, _he stubbornly told himself. _You're here just to talk. Nothing more._

Right. He could do this.

"You've got a pretty good form," he said, moving further into the room. "And your stance isn't bad either. But you need to change your grip. It's too far down, and that's why you don't have the control over the sword that you want."

Daemon stopped and slowly turned around. Legolas felt his heart skip a bit, then drop at the anger that flashed in the young man's eyes as he coolly regarded the new arrival.

"Well, well, well," he said smoothly. "Look who's back. What are you doing down here? Shouldn't you be doing something more important than talking to me? Or did Aragorn make you come down here?"

Legolas winced, and a small part of Daemon cheered. The most of him, however, felt guilty. But he wasn't going to back down. He had been hurt by Legolas when the Elf had broken his promise, and he was going to make Legolas pay for it.

"No one made me come down here," Legolas continued in a soft voice. "I was hoping I could talk to you."

"What on earth could you possibly want to talk to me about? I mean, I'm just another chore for you, right? Someone told you to take care of me, so you have to, even if you don't want to. Or maybe you came down here looking for a fight." He dropped into the defensive crouch that Aragorn had taught him. "Well, you've come to the right place. I'm just _itching_ for one. And against you…That's even better."

Legolas could do nothing but stand there and take every hit of Daemon's verbal assault, even though every word hurled at him felt like a tiny dagger that was being driven into his heart. _You _did _bring this upon yourself. And now you have to fix it._

"I didn't come here for a fight," Legolas continued in a soft voice, holding his arms out to show that he was unarmed. "I just want to talk. That's all."

"Oh." Daemon gave a shrug and turned back around. "That's too bad, then."

Legolas took a few more steps forward. _This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. He---_

His thoughts were interrupted as Daemon, with a loud cry, turned and rushed at him, sword held high.

Quick as a flash, Legolas's two knives were in his hand, meeting the oncoming sword up high, just stopping it from connecting with his skull. _Those things may not be sharp, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt if he lands a hit! _"Daemon, please! I know you're angry with me. I would be angry, too. And I can't apologize enough for leaving you like I did after promising to stay. But I just want a chance to talk to you."

"I don't _want _to talk to you," Daemon yelled in return as he backed away, preparing for another attack. "I _hate _you! I trusted you. I thought we were at least friends. You were the only person I knew here, the only one who didn't treat me like some monster. But then you _left. _You left me here all alone."

With that, he rushed forward again, this time with his sword aimed strait for Legolas's chest.

The Elf easily blocked it, but he could feel tears building in his eyes as he listened to the boy's words. He knew them well. He had thought them himself for the longest time.

"I know I did. And I am so sorry for it. There's nothing I can do to make up for it. But I _can _promise you this. You're not alone, Daemon. You're not alone, and you never will be again. I swear it."

Daemon stood where he was for a moment, staring hard at Legolas, his chest heaving. Then his sword clattered to the ground. He followed it a moment later, dropping to his knees and burying his head in his hands. "I don't want to be alone," he sobbed. "I don't want to ever be alone."

Almost immediately, Legolas's knives were back in their sheaths and he was on his knees at Daemon's side, his arms going around the distraught boy. "I am so sorry," he whispered, his own tears falling. "I'll never leave you again. You'll _never _be alone. I promise."

And, deep in his heart, he knew he would die before he broke _this _promise.

* * *

(1)mellon-nin---------my friend

(2)hanna le----------thank you


	12. Steal Your Pain

Thanks to all of you who dropped a line to tell me what you thought. Even if it makes a few people think, well…Hey, it's all good.

A special shout-out to the overworked linguist who found a boo-boo in my Elvish. You were right. It is 'hannon'. And don't worry about being nit-picky. I love it when people are nit-picky. I _try _to be, but I'm too ADD to be any good at it.

Also, I know that 'Broken' was originally done by just Seether. But I think the version with Amy is much better. That…and the fact that I am the biggest Amy Lee fan in the state of Tennessee.

Warnings: Talk of boys liking boys and of people slashing their wrists. Don't like, deal with it.

Disclaimer: I'm still a broke college student, so they're still not mine. The title comes from the talented band Acid Bath and their awesome song 'Scream of the Butterfly.'

* * *

Dreams in Liquid Blue

Chapter 12: Steal Your Pain

* * *

"I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away."

--------------------------Seether ft. Amy Lee "Broken"

* * *

Daemon had no idea how long he stayed there, lying in a heap on the floor of the training room, clutching Legolas as though the Elf was his lifeline. He _did _know that, when he finally pulled away, his eyes were burning fiercely and his muscles issued a protest at having to move.

"I'm so sorry about that," he said, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He was vaguely aware that Legolas was still resting a hand on his arm, but he was more concerned by how absolutely _drained _he suddenly felt. "I guess that's been waiting to come out for awhile and you just happened to be the one who got to take the brunt of it."

The Elf offered him a warm smile. "There is absolutely nothing to apologize for. I did the exact same thing once. You can ask Aragorn. He was the one who held me as I cried for hours. I can honestly say that you've handled it much better than I did."

This caused the young human to look at him with a quizzical look on his face. "What happened to you?" he asked. Then he blushed. "I guess I shouldn't be asking. After all, I haven't yet told you about my accident."

"That's all right," Legolas answered softly, reaching up to brush aside a lock of Daemon's hair that had gotten stuck to his forehead. "It takes time to be able to speak of something so traumatic that it makes you want to end your life. It hurts, and it also makes you feel slightly ashamed. And, when you _do _speak of it, it seems as though everyone is looking at you with this kind of sympathy on their face, and you just want to---"

"---wipe it off," the human answered in amazement. "You _do _know!"

Legolas's smile widened. "I told you that you were not alone." He tilted his head to one side---reminding Daemon very much of a bird---and studied his companion. "Now, would you like to return to your room? Or even mine. I'm sure the floor is quite uncomfortable for you. I know it is for me!"

The human let out a weak chuckle. "I do believe I have to agree with you. It's just…" A troubled look passed over his face. "In order to get back to my room---or yours, for that matter---we'll have to go through the Great Hall. And I don't want any of them to see me like this. I'm supposed to be the strong warrior that will save their home, not an emotional wreck."

"They also realize that you're human, and that you show your emotions. Even we Elves know that. But, if you don't want to pass through the Hall, then we won't!"

This caused a puzzled frown to steal over Daemon's face. "How do you propose we do that? I didn't know Elves could walk through walls. _I _certainly can't."

This time it was the Elf who let out a chuckle. "You forget that Aragorn and I have been best friends his entire life. I practically live here. I know all of the passages and hallways like the back of my hand. And I am quite certain that there is one that leads from here to our rooms that go quite far around the Great Hall. So." He gracefully climbed to his feet and held out his hand to Daemon. "Will you join me, mellon-nin? Or are you going to stay here for awhile?"

The human narrowed his eyes. His hand, halfway to Legolas's, stopped. "What did you just call me?" he asked in a suspicious tone of voice. "Cause if you're calling me some Elvish dirty word---"

Legolas interrupted him with a laugh. "Elvish dirty word? What strange language you speak! I can assure you that you are quite far off in that guess. Mellon-nin means 'my friend' in the speech of you humans. I hope you don't mind if I call you that. I can understand why you wouldn't…"

Daemon had a wide grin on his face as he placed his hand in Legolas's, marveling at how _right _ it felt. "I would be honored to be called your friend," he said softly, letting the Elf pull him gracefully to his feet. "Now, if you would be so kind to lead the way. First stop will be the sink---ah, water tub in the room. I have to wash my face. My eyes are killing me!"

* * *

The two couples stayed in the Great Hall for hours, chatting amongst themselves, but always with one eye turned towards the passage that led from the vast chamber down towards the training room. Minutes ticked by, and they soon grew into hours. As the time grew longer, Aragorn's smile got wider and wider.

"Well!" he finally declared in a cheerful voice, causing Ylana to start and nearly fall off of her bench. If it hadn't been for Haldir's arm wrapped about her waist, she would have ended up as a heap in the floor. "I believe that it is safe for us to go to bed. I have a feeling that we will see nothing more of our blonds tonight. Either they have managed to kill each other---and I seriously doubt that Daemon could have held out long against Legolas, though he is shaping up to be quite a good swordsmen---or they've reconciled and are perhaps going to speak of their similarities. Personally, I'm hoping for the latter."

"I do hope Legolas hasn't killed Daemon and run off," Ylana said in a slightly worried tone. "I have quite enjoyed being a teacher instead of a tyrant for these past couple of days, and would like to continue doing so for as long as I can."

Haldir let out a chuckle. "I know a few of the soldiers who would like to argue very loudly with that."

She immediately reached up to place a hand on her lover's cheek. "You give yourself too little credit, meleth-nin. (1) You are a fantastic trainer. You've taught them more than I ever could have."

This time, it was a full-blown laugh that escaped the blond Elf's lips. "I do not speak of your training styles, though they say you are easier on them than I. No, I mean the number of young soldiers that find you quite attractive."

This caused her eyes to go wide with shock. "They do not! Quit with your jesting, Haldir. It's not funny."

"_Now _who is not giving there selves enough credit?" Haldir reached out and placed a hand on her cheek as she had done to him only moments ago. "I fell in love with you, did I not? Why can't others want to do the same?"

Arwen suddenly cleared her throat, causing the couple to drop their hands and turn to her. Ylana had been her best friend since childhood, and Arwen could easily recognize the look that was developing in the other female Elf's eyes. If she didn't intercede, the couple would be here all night. Not only that, but they might have a servant walk in on them while they were in a compromising position. "I think Estel is right. We should all go to bed. Ylana, I am quite sure that you will still carry the title of teacher come morning. I seriously doubt Legolas killed Daemon, especially when he knows Daemon is no match for him."

"I suppose you're right," Ylana answered, and she sounded quite relieved by this. "Well, then. To bed it is. And I hope those two have fixed their differences. Legolas deserves some happiness."

"That he does," Aragorn said softly, his eyes returning one last time to the empty corridor. "That he does."

* * *

It hadn't taken them long to reach Daemon's room, much to the young human's surprise. The Elf had led him down a small passage that was not very well lit. Daemon kept bumping into things and bruising his shins, elbows, knees and whatever else stuck out far enough to make contact with the walls. But, when they reached the end, they were just down the corridor from Daemon's room. Not a soul had seen them. For that, he would ignore all of the bumps and scratches he had just received.

He was now quite comfortable, lying stretched out on his bed. His head was resting on Legolas's lap, and his right hand lay in the Elf's left. With his free hand, Legolas was gently stroking the human's hair. It was…nice. Daemon actually felt as though he belonged there, and his eyes were having a hard time staying open.

But he knew they had business to attend to before he could sleep.

"I suppose you would like to know what happened to me," he said in a soft tone, not moving. "Why my hand is all bandaged, and why I was speeding nearly a hundred miles an hour with every intention of slamming the car into a tree when you found me. Or why I have the scars on my wrists. I know you've seen them. They're pretty hard to hide."

Legolas let out a sigh. "Daemon, you don't have to tell me anything. Especially if you're not ready to talk about it. I don't want you thinking that you have to tell me because you _owe _me."

Daemon lay there for a long moment and he contemplated Legolas's words. _Was _that what he was doing? Was he about to tell of his most horrific encounter to this near stranger simply because he felt as though he should explain to Legolas why he had spent the last few hours crying in his arms?

Then he smiled. "That's not why I want to tell you," he said softly but truthfully. "I haven't really _talked _to anyone about what happened that day. Not even my family or my best friend. We always kind of shied away from that subject. So it's been sitting inside me, building up until it had to be released in some way. I guess that's what happened tonight, when you found me. I was so full of emotion, so full of _hatred. _And I thought that it was directed towards you. But it really wasn't. I hated myself, hated what I was. There are only a few people who haven't treated me as a monster since the accident. My best friend was the only one back on Earth who didn't. And neither did you. When I thought you had left because you couldn't stand to be around me, I threw a fit because I wasn't getting what I thought I deserved: attention and love. But tonight… You came back. You held me as I cried. And you called me your friend. I'm not a monster. I'm just a kid with problems. But you've shown me that I'm not the only one. You know _exactly _what I was feeling. And that's why I want to tell you." Here his voice dropped even lower. "Because maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to understand."

A pause greeted him, and Daemon felt himself tense, wondering if the Elf was trying not to laugh at him. Or if he was seriously doubting his sanity.

But, if the young human would have looked up, he would have seen that his fears were far off base. Legolas's eyes were shinning as he looked down onto the boy that lay in his lap, this beautiful boy who radiated pain and anger with every step he took. _He is so much braver than I ever was…_

"Then I will gladly listen to your story, and offer what comfort I can," he answered softly. "And Daemon, thank you. I am thankful that you have forgiven me, and honored that it is I you have chosen to unburden yourself with."

Daemon lay there for a long moment, gathering his courage before he launched into the tale that had led him to where he was now. He started with his life as a budding rock star, of how music had been his life. He spoke longingly of the nights on stage, with a crowd of thousands screaming his name. He laughed as he fondly recalled those long days when he would sit with Morrigan, trying to teach her how to play, and how she would stubbornly try to give up every time she failed. He puffed his chest out in pride as he talked of how good she had become, nearly giving him a run for his money. He spoke of how they had quickly become best friends, and how she was the only person back on Earth that he truly missed.

His voice turned soft as he told Legolas of the accident, of how he had lost all of his fingers on his left hand. He spoke of how his music---his life---was over. He could no longer coax those sweet sounds from a guitar. His voice became angry as he talked of how everyone seemed to think he had turned into some kind of freak. His family treated him like a child, while all of his friends---save Morrigan---turned away from him. Tears began to fall once more as he spoke of how his family fell apart, all because of him. Then he spoke of the first time he had tried to take his own life.

"The funny thing was, I wasn't scared at all. The only thing I thought of was Morrigan, and how much I'd miss her. But that was it. I hated the way everyone treated me, and I didn't want to spend the rest of my life as an outcast. To me, that was worse than dying. I had nothing left to live for. My career was over, I could no longer make music, and it wasn't as though I had anyone who loved me enough to make me want to stay alive. So, when I went out to the shed that day, I had no qualms at all about what I was about to do."

He felt his eyes grow heavy, and he closed them. His tears continued to fall, and he felt so incredibly tired. But he didn't want to stop. He couldn't! So he forced his eyes open and got ready to finish his tale.

But he stopped as Legolas gently placed a finger against his lips. "You have unburdened yourself for one night," he said softly. "You are weary. Get some rest. There will be plenty of time for you to finish your story in the morning. Sleep for now, and have pleasant dreams."

He could already feel himself start to slip into the land of sleep, but he stubbornly clung to wakefulness. At least, for the next moments. "Are you going to leave me again?"

"Not unless you want me to," Legolas's voice was still soft, still gentle. He continued to run his fingers through Daemon's hair, adding to his feeling of grogginess.

"No," the human answered quite forcefully. "No. I want you to stay. If you don't mind."

A smile graced the Elf's face. "I don't mind it at all. Now, sleep. Or I will make you wake early in the morning and help Arwen with the cooking!"

Legolas's threat was useless, for the young human was already fast asleep.

* * *

As they walked down the hall towards their rooms, Aragorn excused himself from his wife's side when they reached the room that had been given to Daemon. "I'm just going to take a quick look inside," he said softly. "If they're not in here, then I'll check in Legolas's room. I just want to make sure that they're all right."

Arwen gave him a knowing smile and a nod. She knew quite well how worried Aragorn was for Legolas. The two had been best friends all of the Man's life and, ever since the incident with Melian, Aragorn had kept an extra close watch on the Elf. "It's all right. I'm just going to go on and get ready for bed."

"I promise that I'll be there shortly." Aragorn leaned slightly down to kiss Arwen, then moved towards Daemon's room as she started off down the hall.

He gave a slight knock on the door. If they were in there, and they were asleep, he didn't want to wake them. But neither did he want to walk in on them unannounced. "Daemon?" he called softly. "Legolas? Are you in there? It's Aragorn."

"Come in!" came a quiet reply. "Just be quiet please."

The first thing the human king saw when he pushed the door open was the moonlight that was filtering in through the room's single window, landing on the bed. In this light, he could easily see Legolas leaning back against the wall, Daemon fast asleep in his lap.

The Elf raised a finger to his lips, once again warning his friend to keep the noise to a minimum. "He finally fell asleep," he said in a soft voice. "I don't want to wake him again."

Aragorn couldn't help but smile as he quietly crossed the room to stand at the edge of the bed. "So I take it that the two of you were able to reconcile your differences?"

Legolas smiled down at the young man that lay in his lap. "You could say that," he said, gently brushing away a lock of Daemon's hair. "And we've discovered that we have quite a bit in common. Granted, that didn't happen until _after _he had tried to kill me. But I'm glad it did."

"I was hoping that might happen. I've tried my best to be there for you, but you need someone who knows exactly what you're going through. And I'll bet he does too."

"I just wish that there was some way I could steal his pain," the Elf said softly. "Some way I could make the hurt go away."

Aragorn's smile widened. "I think you already have," he said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Well, I just wanted to make sure the two of you were all right. Are you going to bed now?"

"No. I promised him that I'd stay here. This time, I'm not going to break it."

"Very well, then. Good night, Legolas. I shall see you ere the morrow." With that, he offered his friend a bow before leaving the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

(1) meleth-nin-----my love


	13. By Your Side

Hello again! If there's anyone still out there….Echo, echo, echo…. Sorry. I've been watching 'Finding Nemo' again. Anywho, thank you all again for the reviews you've been sending! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. I just hope I can continue to hold your attention for the rest of the story, however long that's going to be.

Warnings: Slash and mentions of people slitting their wrists. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's still going to happen weather you try to ignore it or not.

Disclaimer: As always, kudos to the Almighty Tolkien for creating these wonderful people to play with. And also to the band Acid Bath and their awesome song 'Scream of the Butterfly', which is where this ditty gets its name.

Chapter 13: By Your Side

"I want you to know that I stand right by your side"

-------------------"Standing at the Edge of the Earth" Blessed Union of Souls

* * *

_Where am I?_

This was the first thought to cross Daemon Kincaid's mind when he next awoke. Something felt…odd. Not exactly out of place, but not what he was used to. His head was resting on something soft, yet firm. Definitely not his pillow. And, if the ache in his neck was any indication, his head had been in that position all night. He was still wearing his clothes, and he could feel something that felt remarkably like someone else's hand lying underneath his right hand. And there was another hand resting on his head.

_I wonder what…._

His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided to open his eyes.

And immediately wished he hadn't.

He quickly shut them tight against the bright sunlight pouring through the window, a hiss escaping through his lips. _Man, but that stings!_

A slight chuckle came from somewhere over his head. "I imagine that didn't feel too well," came a light male voice, sounding amused. "You're eyes are still a bit swollen, and I don't doubt they're pretty red."

As the young human slowly, carefully blinked his eyes open, all of the events of the past day came flooding back to him. Staying in the training room after Aragorn left…Legolas coming back…Himself fighting against the prince…Crying in the Elf's arms… Coming back to his room…Talking…and, finally, Legolas promising to stay with him.

_I thought he was just going to stay until fell asleep. I didn't think he meant all night!!_

Lifting his head, he regarded the male Elf through bleary eyes. "What are you still doing here?" he asked in a groggy voice.

Legolas lifted an eyebrow, an amused smile on his face. "I thought you wanted me to stay with you?"

"I did but…Did you stay here all night? I thought you would leave after I fell asleep. Did _you _get any sleep?"

Legolas couldn't help but laugh. "My, but you seem to be full of questions this morning. Yes, I stayed here all night. I was afraid I'd wake you if I moved. Besides, it felt nice. And yes, I slept. But Elves have a strange way of sleeping, so it wasn't a problem."

"Oh." Daemon felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the sun shinning in. "Well, thank you for staying with me. And I'm glad you slept. I'd have felt bad if you hadn't gotten any rest."

The Elf dipped his head. One hand still rested on top of Daemon's, while the other had moved to the boy's shoulder. "Believe me, it was a pleasure. Now, I think you might want to get up. Breakfast is in ten minutes, and I doubt Ylana won't be too patient if you don't show up."

_That _got him going. He had never seen Ylana angry, and something told him he didn't want to. He didn't doubt for an instant that she could slice him to a million tiny pieces without breaking a sweat. And she had already made it clear that she did not excuse tardiness, no matter what your circumstances were. She didn't take it from her soldiers, and she wouldn't take it from him.

Moving as quickly as he could with a half-asleep brain, he got up and dashed through the door that lead into the room's bathroom. Walking over to the washbasin, he splashed some cold water on his face, wondering if this was somehow all a dream. Then he moved to the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, mentally arguing with himself if he should spike it or leave it flat. Next, he tried to straiten his clothes as best as he could. Finally deciding that he looked presentable enough for breakfast with the King and Queen, he walked back into his room.

Legolas, already standing with every hair perfectly in place and not a single wrinkle in his clothing, turned and smiled at the young man. "Think you're ready to face another day?"

Daemon smiled back. _With you here, I can face anything. _"Hey, I know I haven't been abandoned. No one treats me like a mental case. Everything is going great for me. I think I can handle a few history lessons and some training."

"Good," the Elf said as he opened the door. "Because here we go."

* * *

Ylana sat next to Haldir at the table, tapping her foot, her gaze switching back and forth between the entrance to the Great Hall and the large clock hanging on the wall. "He better not be late," she murmured. "I don't care _what _those two did last night. I don't allow my soldiers to be late because they stayed with their sweethearts, and he's not going to get any sympathy from me. And if it's Legolas's fault that their late, I'll kill both of them."

Haldir was looking at her in amusement as he scooped up the rest of his eggs. "Come on, 'Lana. Don't you think you should cut them a little slack? I mean, I'm pretty sure they had some issues to work out, and they're both probably exhausted." He would've added that she probably wouldn't have wanted to get up and go to lessons if she had been in their shoes, but stopped. _She probably would have gone anyways…_

She turned to give her lover a pointed look, and both Aragorn and Arwen hid their giggles behind their napkins. "No, I don't. He made a commitment to learn, and he should stick with it. Now, if he had come up to me yesterday and told me that he wouldn't make it to his lesson today, then that's fine. But I will not tolerate tardiness or unexcused absences."

They let it go at let. Let her pretend to be a tough military leader. They all knew what a soft heart lay hidden behind that hard exterior. Aragorn especially remembered the time a young soldier had not shown up to three training sessions in a row. Ylana, furious at the young man for not contacting her and thinking he was simply being lazy, had gone looking for him. When she reached his home and was about to rip into him, he grabbed her by the wrist, pulled her into the sitting room and proudly showed her his new baby girl. He had been by his wife's side during the delivery and for the past few days. All of the fight had quickly left the female warrior, especially when she was allowed to hold the child. She fondly told Haldir and the others later of how the girl had looked up at her and made a cooing noise as her tiny fist closed around a lock of Ylana's long hair. She had gently reprimanded the young man for not telling her that his wife was expecting so that she would know where he was in case of an absence, told him to at least come for an hour a day for the next two weeks, and that was it. No more was said of the subject. And Arwen knew for a fact that her best friend often made the trip to that soldier's home to check up on his wife and daughter.

But they knew better than to tell _her _that. All three of them had seen seasoned warriors shrivel under one of her famous glares.

Ylana looked at the clock again, then opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and laughter echoing down the hallway. Turning, all the three of them watched as Legolas and Daemon walked into the Great Hall, both laughing at something. The female warrior noted the way they stood so close that they were almost touching, and how they seemed to use any excuse to make some kind of contact. She could feel the corners of her mouth start to turn up. _It's about time Legolas found someone who's not going to treat him like a prize rather than the wonderful person __he is._

She quickly schooled her face to make it look stern and cleared her throat. "I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to come and find you and drag you to your lessons," she said in a crispy tone. "I do not tolerate tardiness. Legolas, you of all people should know this. I've blew your ears out numerous times for being late."

The Elf waved his hand in a dismissive gesture as he and the young human sat down across the table from one another. "Oh come off it, Ylana. You worry too much. We made it here on time, didn't we? And that's all that matters."

Ylana tried to look indignant. She really did. But it didn't work. She blinked, then burst into laughter. "Ah, Legolas. I could never be angry at you. No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn't last more than a few moments."

The Mirkwood prince offered her a very impish grin as a servant put plates down before him and Daemon. "I know. It's just another part of my charm. Though it doesn't work as well on young Daemon here, who tried his very best to drive a sword through my heart last night. But he still couldn't kill me. Right?" He turned his sparkling blue eyes back to the boy.

Daemon, however, hadn't been paying the least bit of attention. His face was currently hidden by his blond hair as he practically inhaled ever bit of food on his plate. His appetite had been waning ever since Legolas left that day without an explanation. He had recognized it from the period right after his accident. He hadn't been able to eat very much then, either. The idea that someone he thought cared about him didn't seem to want to be around him and sapped him of all his energy and emotions. But now that he knew he was wrong, that Legolas hadn't abandoned him because he was different, his appetite had returned. And with a fury. It was now not-so-gently reminding him of how much he _hadn't _eaten in the past week. In a few moments, the servant was going to have to bring him another plate.

All four of his companions could do nothing but blink at him. They had never seen anyone eat so much at once! But they all had a pretty good idea at the reason why he was eating everything in sight, so they chose to ignore it and go on with their usual morning banter.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Haldir asked Legolas in a roguish tone, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Ylana. "Ouch!" he exclaimed, turning a pained look on his lover. She just offered him a sweet smile in return.

But Legolas had been prepared to put up with these comments from his friends. "Oh, you better believe it. It was the best sleep of my life. Almost as good as the time I slept with _you, _dear Haldir."

The Elf from Lothlorien turned an interesting shade of red as the other three around him howled with laughter. Especially Ylana. They all knew about the incident Legolas was referring to. It had become a running joke between the companions.

The Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn threw a large gala once a year. Every Elf and a handful of other species came to it. The Elves of Lothlorien spent months getting ready for the occasion. It was the biggest event of the year.

One year, Legolas and Haldir had decided to play one of the human's drinking games. But they had used elderberry wine, which was the strongest form of alcohol for Elves. They had gone on for hours, neither of them willing to give up. Finally, both had passed out. When they next awoke, they found themselves in bed…together.

Both of them had been appalled. Haldir was with Ylana, and Legolas had begun talking to Melian in earnest. For the next month, they went out of the way to avoid one another. Neither of them could remember what had happened that night, but both feared the worse.

But it finally got to the point where Ylana could no longer stand it. With tears of laughter in her eyes, she finally confessed to her lover that it had all been one big joke. She, Arwen and Aragorn had been the ones to carry the two drunken Elves to bed. Legolas had apparently pulled some prank on Aragorn not long ago, and this was the human's way of getting him back. Haldir just happened to be the unlucky victim who got pulled in as well.

Ever since then, the five friends had often teased one another about the night Haldir and Legolas 'slept together'. Luckily, neither of them had been too mad about it, and they would tease right back. However, Haldir still got red in the face every now and then. Especially if Legolas said something about it.

Daemon ignored them all. He was too busy working on his second plate of food.

Aragorn chuckled as he shook his head. "Well, I'm just glad that the two of you got everything worked out. You two are going to have to spend a lot of time together, and that would be quite difficult if you couldn't stand the sight of one another."

"Oh, I don't think we're going to have that problem," Legolas said with a twinkle in his eye and as he looked over at Daemon.

Ylana and Arwen shared knowing looks from across the table. Perhaps it was simply because they were female, but they could both tell that there was something brewing between the Elf and human. Neither of them were about to complain. They knew it was good for Legolas, and they didn't doubt that Daemon needed it too.

"Well!" she said in a cheery voice, causing Legolas's gaze to swing back her way. Even Daemon managed to look up. His second plate was almost empty. "Once Daemon gets finished, I'm going to kidnap him for his lessons. I promise to have him back in time for lunch."

"And I get him after that," Aragorn said. Then he turned and lifted an eyebrow at Legolas. "Perhaps you would like to join us?"

"You bet I'll be there," was the firm reply. "Despite the fact that I was trying to keep from being killed last night, I noticed a few things that our young Daemon needs to work on. So expect me there. I swear to it."

"So I guess that means I should get going as well. Wouldn't want to keep the soldiers waiting." Haldir wiped his mouth with a napkin before leaning over and planting a kiss on Ylana's cheek. "I'll see you at noon."

"Have fun," she said impishly. "Don't work them too hard! I don't want to have to go back for awhile."

He groaned and rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. "Yes, ma'am." After wishing everyone else a good morning, he got to his feet and walked out of the room.

Ylana watched him go with a sparkle in her eyes before turning back to the others seated at the table. "Daemon? Are you about finished?"

The young man, a hand on his stomach and a contented smile on his face, nodded. The plate in front of him was empty.

"Good. Then let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

Something was not right.

Ylana had been teaching Daemon history for about two weeks now. And, in that time, he had been nothing but the model student. He was eager to learn, listened intently and asked questions. When she quizzed him, he always did excellent. She had no doubt that, if anyone where to ask him about Middle Earth's past, they would have a hard time believing he wasn't a native.

But not today. Today, Daemon seemed to be somewhere else. She had been sitting there for the past two hours, talking about Feanor and the Simirils---one of the most important chapters in the history of Middle Earth---and she would bet her bow that he hadn't heard a single word of what she had said.

Finally, with a sigh, she closed the book she had been holding with a loud thump, startling Daemon, and put is aside. "All right. You want to tell me what's going on?"

The young human blinked at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You! You haven't heard a word I've said all morning."

He shifted uneasily in his chair. "Yes, I have. I'm just tired. That's all."

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a hard look. He squirmed some more, and it took everything he had not to wince. "Oh you have, have you? Then perhaps you would like to inform me of everything you have learned so far from today's lesson."

He sat there for a moment, mouth slightly open as if he were about to speak as he furiously wracked his brain for any tidbit he might have picked up during that morning. Finally, he was forced to give up with a sigh. "You're right, Ylana, and I'm sorry. It's not that I'm bored. You know better than that. It's just…I have other things on my mind. That's all."

This caused as elegant eyebrow to be lifted. "Would you like to talk about it?"

"I wouldn't really know what to say, or where to begin. It's all so complicated." A frustrated frown came over his face. "And I can't do much of anything else."

She didn't get angry, or give him some crisp response about how he should be paying attention to her rather than daydreaming, as he rather expected her to. Instead, she reached over and placed a hand on his knee. "I'm so very glad that you're here, Daemon," she said in a soft tone. "Legolas needs you here more than you can know."

"And that's what's bothering me," he said, leaning forward. "Legolas says he knows what I'm going through, and, from the way he speaks, I believe him. But _what _happened to him? Why does he seem to know so much about me and my pain?"

Ylana simply smiled and patted his knee. "That, I cannot tell you. It's not my place. Now then, let's get back to the lesson. And do please try to pay attention this time!"

And so the morning wore on, with Daemon left with no answer to the question that had been bugging him all morning. He only hoped that he would get more out of Aragorn later that evening!

* * *

"So….he doesn't know yet?"

Aragorn and Legolas were sitting in a secluded part of the Palace gardens. Both men had often used that very spot to find solace, and it was where they went when they needed to have a heart-felt talk. Or if they didn't want anyone else to overhear. They were sitting on a stone bench in the far corner of the rose garden, where the flowers had grown so fast that it was barely less than a tangle of brush. But there was enough space for the two of them to squeeze through to get to the bench, and they had no worries about anyone finding them.

Legolas was leaning back against the trunk of an apple tree that had been forgotten, twirling a red rose between his fingers. He let out a sigh as he gently tugged one of the thons off of the stem. "No. Not yet. He opened himself to me a bit last night, and I feel I should repay the favor. At least show him the scars. That way, he'll know for sure that I truly understand, and am not simply pretending to make him feel better."

Aragorn wore a worried look on his face. He was sitting cross-legged, facing his childhood best friend, biting his lower lip. It was a habit he had finally broken, but reverted to it every now and then when he was extremely worried. "Are you sure about that? You haven't done that to anyone. The last time someone asked you to see them, you locked yourself in your room and tried to poison yourself."

"Can you blame me? I didn't want to spend the rest of my life as a freak, showing my pain simply for other people's amusement and pity. I hated feeling that way. And Daemon does too. That's why I know it'll be okay." A slight smile crossed the Elf's face. "You've all been right, you know. I need this. It felt so good listening to someone else who had gone through the same feeling I had. I know you and the others tried to help me, and I appreciate it greatly. I really do. But you just didn't know. And he does."

Aragorn managed a smile. "Well, if you trust him, them I am happy that you've found someone. But, if anything happens…"

Legolas laughed, causing the human to smile. He had gone so long without hearing that musical sound… "Do not worry, mellon-nin. If he upsets me in any way, I will be sure to come to the execution. But I don't think you have any reason to pull out the headman's ax just yet."

"If you're sure, then so am I," Aragorn said firmly. "I trust your judgment this time, mainly because I feel that he is a trustful young man, and that he is just as scared and lonely as you once were."

"Luckily, I had my friends around to help me," he answered warmly. "And that's what I want to do for him."

"I can't argue with that." Aragorn uncrossed his legs and swung them around so that both feet were on the ground. "Unless I miss my guess, lunch will be served in less than half an hour. I suggest we be heading back, else our young human friend will come looking for us. And this time, that sword may not miss!"

Legolas laughed again as he got to his feet. Still holding the now thorn less rose in his hand, he followed the king back to the Palace.


	14. Fall to Pieces

Greetings to everyone out there in la-la land! I apologize for the vast amount of slackage lately. Things have just been nuts around here. But I'm hoping I can get back on track. Hope everyone had a wonderful Chrsistmas/Yule/ whatever you celebrate.

Warnings: If you've already gotten this far into the story, then you already know. If you don't know, then I suggest you start at chapter one.

Disclaimer: The characters belonging to Tolkien obviously don't belong to me. The title comes from Acid bath's 'Scream of the Butterfly', which, by the way, is an awesome song.

---------------------------------------

Dreams in Liquid Blue

Chapter 14: Fall to Pieces

--------------------------------------------------

"I fall to pieces, I'm falling. Fell to pieces, and I'm still falling."

----"Fall to Pieces" Velvet Revolver

---------------------------------------------

Daemon stood where he was sword raised in front of him just the way Aragorn had taught him how on the first day of training. He stared strait ahead at the King, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Legolas was standing off to the side, leaning casually against the wall and regarding the younger human very closely with those magnificent blue eyes.

_You can do this. It's okay. Just try and forget that he's here._

"Okay. You've done a good job of protecting yourself, and you've even managed to land a hit or two on me. But we need to work on your method of attack. You leave yourself open quite a bit, and brute force doesn't always work. I'll wager that, had he wanted to, Legolas could have easily killed you last night. We don't want that to happen again."

He could feel his face slowly start to heat up. _He's right. I did just go in swinging. I probably wouldn't have lasted against him five seconds if he had wanted to kill me._

_Well, that's why I'm here._

Aragorn was standing about five feet in front of him, sword held loosely at his side. He was looking at his young charge with an approving gaze. He had picked up on everything else easily, so why should this time be any differently? Daemon looked a little nervous, but it didn't take a leap of faith to figure that one out. It had been the same on their first day when Haldir had come in with his soldiers.

_I guess he doesn't like fighting in front of an audience. Oh well. He'll learn to get over it sooner or later._

"First thing I want you to do is get down in your normal position... Feet like so… Perfect! Now, lift your sword like this. Good! I'm going to attack you. When I do, I want you to block me, just like I showed you…"

Legolas was distracted by the sound of near-silent footfalls echoing in the room. Turning his head, he saw Ylana carefully enter the room and make her way over to her companion. A smile crossed his face as she came to stand beside him, her silver eyes focused on the two combatants in the room. "How's he doing?" she whispered.

"They're just about to get started," he whispered back. "They're going to work on his method of his attack, so Aragorn's going to rush him…There he goes!"

As the two Elves watched, the King of Gondor suddenly ran strait for the boy, sword lifted in the air.

What Daemon _really _wanted to do was throw his hands up to protect his face and scream. But he didn't. Instead, he swallowed the huge lump in his throat and focused on his teacher, trying to anticipate where he was going to attack. He dropped his sword, started moving to the right…then seemed to come back around…

A loud _clank_ echoed through the room as the two blades met with almost equal force.

Legolas lifted an eyebrow. _Not bad. While that is a relatively easy attack to block for a seasoned fighter, it's pretty difficult for someone who's still in training. He did it very well!_

Aragorn had a grin that could only be described as insane on his face. "Very good! Now, I want you to attack me."

That panicked feeling was back in the pit of his stomach. He had just gone by instinct and what the king had showed him, and had done fine. But now, if he attacked… There was no need for him to attack. He had no raging emotions to direct his movements, and he knew without a doubt that he would be defeated. And that, right now, seemed to be the most horrible thing that could happen to him. But he had to try.

So, summoning all the strength he had, he pushed Aragorn away and rushed at him while the older man was still trying to get his balance. He swung his sword strait down at his opponent's shoulder.

Aragorn blocked the swing, but just barely. If at all possible, his grin was wider. "Perfect!" he said in a delighted tone of voice. "See? Now that wasn't so bad?"

Daemon managed a weak grin of his own, despite the fact that his heart was pounding in his chest. _Maybe I can do this after all!_

Both Legolas and Ylana were grinning happily, and the female Elf had even added a schoolgirl giggle of delight when Daemon swung at her friend. "Oh, he's doing so well!"

"He really is," her companion said in an impressed tone. He really hadn't expected his young charge to show such skill for the sword so fast…and with only one hand. While he didn't bring up the subject with Aragorn, both knew how few one-handed swordsmen they had ever come across that were actually good. There hadn't been many, and all but one were Orcs. This was definitely a surprise. And a delightful one at that.

He couldn't deny the fact that his heart was selling with pride as he watched the young man, and it was fluttering quite rapidly as well. Watching that sleek grace that lay under those muscles, seeing the sweat cause his skin to shine…It sent a shiver down Legolas's back. It was not entirely unwelcome, but it was still frightening.

_Just talk to him…_

His father's words came floating back to him, as did his promise that he would try to obey him. Last night had been a good start as the two of them had lain on Daemon's bed and the young man began to recount his horrific story. It had struck a chord with Legolas, as he had found so many similarities between Daemon's story and his own. He found himself wanting to know more of Daemon's tale, and to recount his own. It might help the young man's still-fragile psyche is he knew that he ha not been the only one to suffer shame and ridicule from former friends for something that was not his fault.

_Tonight. We'll finish our talk tonight._

_-----------------------------------------------------_

Hours later, Daemon was so exhausted he could hardly stand up. His arm was shaking from the effort he had used to swing the sword, and sweat was pouring off of him in rivers.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been so happy. By the time the training session was over, he and Aragorn were in the middle of a pretty fierce mock battle. Neither had been able to land a hit on the other in quite some time. Ylana had cheered him on, and Legolas had soon joined in. The entire time, Aragorn had the grin of a madman on his face. It had finally ended when the king had landed a blow on Daemon's wrist, causing him to drop his sword.

"Bravo!" he exclaimed in delight, clapping Daemon on the shoulder hard enough to nearly send the former musician toppling over. "You are an absolute natural at this, my boy. Are you sure you've never done any sword work before?"

"Positive," he choked out, still recovering from Aragorn's blow on his back.

"Then I don't have that much left to teach you." He picked up Daemon's sword and went to put them away. "You'll be just fine on your own after a few more lessons."

Both Ylana and Legolas bobbed their heads in agreement. Daemon just tried to keep the shiver of fear off of his spine. _I don't even want to think about leaving, though I knew I'd have to eventually. But I've gotten so comfortable here. _

Indeed he had. Minas Tirith was beginning to grow on him. It even almost felt like…home. And home was something he'd craved for many a months. He didn't want to leave.

At least he wouldn't be going alone.

The two Elves came up beside him, each capturing one of his arms in theirs. "That was terrific!" Ylana gushed. "That was one of the best fights I've seen in quite some time. And that's saying a lot, seeing as how I watch them every day."

"I must agree," Legolas said from the boy's other side. "You fought very well. You could easily outfight quite a few of our soldiers. Ah, no offense to you, Ylana. You are a very good trainer. But some of those Men just don't have the knack for sword fighting."

Daemon ducked his head as Ylana glared at her male counterpart, mostly to hide the fact that his face was now a deep crimson color. He wasn't used to this praise. Sure, he'd gotten it when he played music. But that was for something he loved and _knew _he was good at doing. He never thought he'd even be able to _swing _a sword. And the fact that he was being complimented on his sword fighting skills…That was a little different.

But it still made him feel good. And that was something he'd sorely missed ever since the accident. A warmth was radiating through him, and he almost felt as though he could fly.

"Come along, now," Aragorn said as he joined then, still grinning. "Dinner's almost ready, and I'm starving!"

------------------------------

Daemon didn't even care about the fact that he was going to dinner sweaty and disheveled. In fact, he was kind of proud of it. He could show people that he wasn't useless, that he really could do something. Maybe these people here didn't think he was useless, but he still had to prove it to himself. He had to remind himself that he had a purpose. Maybe, just maybe, he could then go back to a somewhat normal life.

"…and out he came, his hair the most interesting shade of pink that I have ever seen!"

Everyone at the table broke out into roaring laughter as Aragorn finished telling of a prank that he and his brothers had once performed on his foster-father. Daemon had never met him, but he remembered the descriptions Morrigan had read to him of the regal Lord Elrond. When he added pink hair to that mental image, he couldn't help but laugh.

The human king sat back with a satisfied smile as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. His grey eyes glittered as he took in everyone at the table. There was Haldir and Ylana, trading mocking banter with one another and acting as though they were siblings. But he knew that their knees were probably touching under the table, and he kept noticing that Ylana's left hand would disappear on occasion, probably to give her lover's a reassuring squeeze. Arwen---_his _Arwen---set next to him, looking as resplendent as ever. She would turn that dazzling smile on him, then laugh at something Ylana had just said.

But the most interesting pair had to be the one who were sitting across from him at the moment.

Legolas and Daemon were acting more like best friends---or maybe something more---rather than two people who had been at odds with one another just days ago. They would laugh at apparently nothing, and when Daemon dropped a piece of bread, Legolas was quick to pick it up and offer it to him. The young man ate it right off of his fingers, then both of them would turn a slight shade of pink before laughing all over again.

Aragorn couldn't help but smile. _It won't be long now…_

_-------------------------------------------------_

Dinner was a lively affair. Aragorn announced that there was a new swordsman in Minas Tirith, and went into detail of his spar with Daemon. In celebration, the best wine was brought out for them all to enjoy. Daemon had never been much of a drinker, but he felt he deserved it. So when he went off to bed some time later, he was just a bit tipsy.

Legolas walked along at the young human's side, keeping a supportive hand on his elbow. Daemon wasn't really that far gone, but it was enough for him not to be able to walk strait. His Elven companion made sure he did not walk into anything, or _over _anything.

"You don't have to walk me, Legolas," Daemon insisted. "I'll be fine. Really!"

Legolas just grinned as his friend nearly barreled over a vase. "No, my young friend. I think you need some assistance to get to your chambers. You've had a bit more wine than I'm guessing you're used to. I'm not about to let you totter off. There's no knowing where you might end up!"

Daemon offered a great big smile, and Legolas's smile widened. It looked a little odd with his glazed, unfocused eyes and reddened cheeks. _He reminds me of the dolls the young girls play with._

"Will you stay with me again tonight? I mean…You never know. What if I get sick or something? Please?"

This time, it was a chuckle that escaped the lips of the Elf prince. "Well, if you insist. I will gladly stay another night with you."

That smile widened. "Oh, good! That makes me feel so much better. Thank you. I don't like being alone, you know. It's not a very nice feeling. Especially when you've done nothing to deserve it. Even if I do act all tough and say I can handle things just fine, I just want to curl up and cry when there's no one with me."

Legolas nodded his head emphatically as the two of them walked into Daemon's room. "I know exactly what you mean. I've always thought loneliness was the scariest feeling in the world. I'd rather be facing a horde of Orcs or even these new Death Guards rather than be alone."

Daemon turned to face his companion, a frown on his lips. "What would you know about being alone? You have some of the most wonderful friends that I've ever met. I doubt they'd shun _you _if something were to happen. It looks like you'd never have to worry about being lonely."

A small smile crossed his face. "You're right. I never will be alone. But, for a time, I thought I was. And I nearly made the biggest mistake of my life."

Daemon's frown turned to puzzling. "What do you mean?"

Legolas took his human friend by the hand and led him over to the bed where they could both sit down. "I'm going to show you something," he said in a soft voice as he began unbuckling his bracers. "I think this might explain a lot of things to you."

Once he had those off, he rolled his sleeves up to his elbow before holding out his arms, palms up, towards Daemon.

At first, the young man couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. But once he blinked so his eyes could adjust, he let out a gasp when he saw just what it was that Legolas meant.

There, on the Elf's wrists, were two long, angry whit scars, identical to Daemon's. This could only mean one thing…

The human turned his wide-eyed gaze up to his companion and managed to whisper two words.

"You, too?"


	15. Torn

Lookie! I'm back! Surprised? Yeah, me too.

Warnings: Same old song and dance. Nothing new to add.

Disclaimer: As always, I am just a humble student who has taken the glorious creation of the Almighty Tolkien and decided to play with it. And the title still doesn't belong to me. Sorry.

---------------------------------------

Dreams in Liquid Blue

Chapter 15: Torn

-------------------

"I'm so torn between love, death, life and hate."

--------Iced Earth "The Phantom Opera Ghost"

-------------

Daemon wasn't sure if he was drunk, or dreaming. But the angry scars that stood out on Legolas's pale flesh---scars that matched his own---didn't seem to be real. They couldn't _possibly _be real. Not Legolas. Not the person who seemed to have everything.

Still not believing what he was seeing, he reached out to gently run a finger down one of the scars, much the same way Legolas had done to him a little over a week ago. Legolas gave a little shiver, but it went completely unnoticed by his human companion.

With his fingers still lightly resting on Legolas's wrist, Daemon looked up at his friend with a look of disbelief. "How?" was all he managed to say.

Legolas offered a little smile as he let his arms relax. "It happened because I fell in love with the wrong person," was his softly spoken answer. With a sigh, he lay back on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. Daemon stretched out next to him, opting to have his head rest on his arm so that he could look down at the Elf's face.

Legolas focused his eyes on the ceiling and suddenly found himself dredging up memories that he had wanted to lose forever.

"His name was Melin. He was an officer in my father's army. I had never met him before. According to Ada---my father---he had come to Mirkwood from another realm. And I can still remember the first day I saw him, and fell head over heels."

Once again, the young Elf prince found himself standing on the archery range with some of his friends, having a friendly match, as they were wont to do. Just as they were about to finish up, someone else walked up to them. "Excuse me," came a rich, deep voice that Legolas didn't recognize. "Would it be alright if I tried my hand at it?"

Legolas had turned around to greet the stranger, and immediately had his breath stolen from him.

This stranger had long, dark hair, marking him as an Elf that called somewhere other than Mirkwood his home. His eyes were the color of gray steel, but still managed to sparkle with a warm light. And while his features were very similar to those of all other Elves, there had been something… _different _about him. Legolas could never claim what it was exactly---his eyes, or maybe the peculiar shape of his mouth, or the way he moved---but it had been love at first sight. The young prince had only been able to stand and stare, mouth slightly open, until one of his companions nudged him in the side and asked if he was ever going to answer.

"P-please," the young prince managed to stutter. "We would be honored if you would join us."

The stranger smiled, and Legolas nearly swooned. It was absolutely the most gorgeous smile he had ever seen. As their new companion took his pace, Legolas quickly moved in to make sure he would be standing closest.

"My heart was pounding," Legolas continued, still staring up at the ceiling. "My mouth was dry. I was pretty sure that I wouldn't be able to even shoot my bow, much less hit anything. And that made me sad, because I so very much wanted to show off to him."

A slight smile crossed Daemon's face. He knew exactly what that was like, wanting to show off to someone in hopes of getting their attention. Especially another guy.

Which, he would readily admit, made him slightly excited. Legolas was attracted to men. That meant there might be a chance for him…

"He was an incredible shot. He hit the bulls-eye on his first shot. Me and another friend of mine were the only two out of the original five who managed to beat his mark. Granted, I sometimes think they did it on purpose. I suppose I was none too subtle in my infatuation with him."

In the next round, only Legolas and the stranger had managed to stay in the game. By this time, Legolas was so nervous that he wasn't eve sure if he could stand strait. He was tingling all over. He was so busy trying not to pay attention to the handsome stranger next to him that his fingers slipped a few times while he was trying to fit the arrow onto his bow. Feverently hoping no one had noticed, Legolas raised his bow for the final shot.

He missed the bulls-eye by just a hair. With a gracious smile, he turned to his companion and offered him a bow. "It's your turn, sir."

The man laughed. "I'm sure it'll be nowhere near the mark. I've heard not too many people can match Prince Legolas in an archery contest. But I shall give it my best."

Legolas kept his head ducked as he waited for his face to cool _So he knows who I am! _"Then I am sure it will be an interesting finish."

Still grinning, the man turned towards the target, raised his bow, pulled back the string, sighted and released. The arrow sailed through the air and landed with a solid _thunk _in the target.

Unconsciously, both Elves leaned forward in anticipation. Even with their eyesight, they couldn't make out which one had won.

One of Legolas's friends ---a young Elf named Hayden --- walked over to the target before turning back to the two combatants with a grin. "Sorry, Legolas. Looks like you lost this one."

"That's all right." Legolas turned to his companion with a grin and offered his hand. "Good game, my friend! I'm sorry, but I don't believe I caught your name."

"That's all right," was the reply. With a matching grin, the stranger shook Legolas's hand. The young prince had a hard time not snatching his arm back as a fierce tingling ran up to his shoulder. "I never offered it. It's Melin."

"And that was that." Legolas closed his eyes, trying to shake the memory from his mind. "I was in love. From that day forward, I used every excuse I could think of to be close to him. When my father went to inspect the troops, I would go with him, just to watch Melin. Ada was a smart man, and began inviting him to dinner. It wasn't long before Melin and I were officially a couple."

The young Elf went on to tell of how the two had been together for months, seemingly the two happiest people alive. The only person who seemed to have any doubt was Aragorn. He kept telling Legolas that something just wasn't right about his new lover. But Legolas, as most people who were in their first serious relationship, didn't want to believe him. And so, life went on.

Until the day that Legolas, hoping to surprise his lover after archery practice, overheard something that would shatter his life.

As he had approached the area where the archers were practicing, Legolas had heard the unmistakable sound of Melin laughing, along with some other voices. He had stopped behind a bush, wanting to let his lover finish his conversation before he stepped in to surprise him.

"It was so easy," he was saying in a boastful tone. "He's been the most gullible one I've come across yet. It didn't take me near as long to cozy up to him as it has to some of the other guys I've been with."

Legolas, who was still standing behind his bush, frowned as he heard this. _Who is he talking about? Surely it's not me!_

_Is it?_

"How long are you going to stay here?" another voice, one that Legolas didn't recognize, asked.

He could almost hear Melin shrug. "Who knows? Whenever I get bored, I suppose. Then I'll move on, just like I always do. It'll probably be awhile, though. I like it here. And it's nice to have his undivided devotion, even though I could care less about him."

These words stunned Legolas into immobility. He couldn't move. He couldn't even hear the raucous laughter that the three friends shared. He never even realized that Melin and his companions had come around the bush.

Until he heard Melin gasp. "Legolas!"

The young prince looked up, tears blurring his eyes, and had just enough time to see the shocked expression on Melin's face as he realized that his lover had overheard everything before he turned and dashed away.

"Legolas, wait!" Melin called out in an anguished voice. But it was too late. Legolas was gone, running as fast as he possibly could, fueled by anger, sadness and heartbreak.

_Melin doesn't love me. He _never _loved me. I was just some kind of prize to him!_

And that just made him run faster.

"I just ran," Legolas recalled. He hadn't moved from his spot on the bed. Daemon was having a little trouble keeping his burning, blurry eyes open. But he wasn't about to turn away, or even think about closing his eyes. He was completely spellbound. "I didn't even know where I was running to. I could've run into a tree or something else and I never would've known it. I was just so… numb. I couldn't feel anything. I think I was in shock. The idea that Melin didn't love me, didn't even _care _about me after months of making me the happiest person alive… It just wasn't possible. At least, not to my mind."

Here he shook his head, the first movement he'd made since beginning his tale. "But it didn't take long for that to wear off. Then the reality of what had happened begin to settle in. And that was the worst part ever. It _hurt. _It hurt in ways that I never thought possible. And it tore me apart. It was like something was clawing at my chest. And I wanted it to stop. Because, the one thing that kept playing over and over in my mind was this: if Melin, the man I loved didn't actually love me, then maybe no one loved me. And no matter what I did, I couldn't make that thought go away. That's why I did this."

He moved his arms from out behind his head and held them out, studying them. Almost without thinking, Daemon moved so that he could lift his own arms and hold them up next to the Elf's. His scars were more pink than white---showing them to be more recent---but, other than that, they were identical.

Legolas turned his head so that he could look at Daemon and offer a smile. "Now you know why Galadriel asked me to come and find you. This wasn't my only try, you know. Aragorn found me in time to stop this. But there was another time that I---"

He stopped as Daemon turned to face him, and Legolas noticed the tears that were coursing down the young human's face. "Daemon! What's wrong? Why are you crying? Did I---"

"I'm sorry," Daemon whispered, his blue eyes swimming as they locked on to Legolas's. "I'm sorry for everything you had to go through. It was much worse than mine. I feel---- I feel so horrible for thinking mine was so bad. You—God, I'm so sorry!" With that he placed his hands over his eyes and held them there while more tears splashed onto the sheets.

Legolas just stared at him, mouth agape, unsure of what to do. _Is this what Earth humans do when they're drunk? I've never seen Estel break down quite like this. What am I supposed to do?_

"I've spent so much of the past year caught between life, death, love and hate," the boy managed to get out. "Morrigan and my mother loved me. I hated myself. They wanted me to live. I wanted to die. And I thought that was the worst thing imaginable. But you…" He wiped his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "To have that one person you can think can never hurt you betray you that way… I never doubted that I was loved by others. I just had trouble loving myself." He turned his eyes back to Legolas. "I'm sorry I've made such a big deal out of my ordeal. I think I would've gladly taken what happened to me over what he did to you."

The Elf managed a smile. "It's all right. You didn't know. Besides, it's not like what happened to you is anything to scoff at. To have all of your dreams wiped out in an instant!"

"But why?" Daemon continued to stare at Legolas, as though he hadn't heard a word his companion had just said. "You have to be one of the kindest people I've ever met. You never asked questions. You just did what you thought was best for me. Even when I was so rude, you never left. When I lost my temper last night, you just took it in stride. Even when I tried to hit you with my sword, you did everything you could not to hurt me. I don't know if I love you, Legolas, but I think I might."

The Elf blinked at him in surprise. "Daemon, stop. You're drunk. You don't know what you're say---"

"I'm fully aware of what I am saying. I just needed to be drunk to be bold enough to say it. But yes, I think I love you. And if I don't, you're still the kindest person I have ever met, save for Morrigan. And that fact that anyone could do that to you just… It makes me so angry and hurt. If I had known this Melin, I would've killed him."

Legolas blinked a few more times, then felt a slow, warm smile crossing his face. His heart was fluttering itself into a frenzy, and his whole body was tingling with a pleasure that he hadn't felt since…

Since Melin.

Suddenly, without warning, Legolas let out a laugh as he reached over and pulled Daemon to him, holding him tight in his arms. "You silly human. You don't know how much you've come to meant to me these past days. Now, get some sleep. You're drunk, and I'm sure you're head isn't going to be feeling too good come morning."

"That's all right," Daemon responded as he happily snuggled closer to the Elf---_his _Elf. _I could most certainly get used to this, _he thought as, for the second night in a row, he fell into a contented sleep wrapped up in the Elf's arms.

The smile was still one Legolas's face as he closed his eyes, which wasn't necessary. But he didn't want to startle the young man should he awake in the night to find his companion's eyes wide open. _I love this boy, _he thought to himself. _And, one day, I just might be able to tell him so. _


End file.
